


Fight or Flight

by thatsmistertoyou



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Biphobia, First Meetings, Homophobic Language, M/M, Making Out, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Platonic Cuddling, Rejection, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing a Bed, Skype, Slow Build, Social Anxiety, Travel, radio show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsmistertoyou/pseuds/thatsmistertoyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan and Phil meet on a plane to California in 2012, both travelling for very different reasons. Their paths begin to converge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight or Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Original A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who supported me through the adventure that was writing this. You know who you are and I wouldn’t be nearly as proud of this as I am without you. <3  
> Written for the Phandom Big Bang 2.

_June 2012  
_

Dan always thought that airports appealed to a very limited set of people. Not that anyone went to an airport just because they liked overpriced food and feeling rushed and slowed down all at once - people used airports as a means to an end. A stop along the way as they went on to something else. And Dan couldn’t help but bask in the metaphorical resonance of that fact as he shuffled along the security queue behind a family of six. It was slow going to say the least.

The only thing to do was people-watch, and Dan found himself eyeing the Serious Business people with earpieces and artfully packed carry-ons that, no doubt, had three weeks worth of stuff in them.

Dan stared down at his own suitcase, rolling it back and forth across the small available space beside him. He had probably overpacked, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. His mum had insisted on being an integral part of planning his trip, which, Dan suspected, was a clever ploy on her part to find out the  _real_ reason he was going at all.

If only he knew the answer himself.

Dan tapped his phone so it would display the time, and swallowed nervously when he realized how little time he had until his flight boarded.  _Fuck,_ he sighed, eyeing the rambunctious children in front of him, who apparently didn’t understand the social conventions that fun and relaxation were not allowed in airports.

He looked at his phone again, even though no time had passed, and unlocked it. His background photo hadn’t changed since the day it was taken at Reading Festival three years prior, even though his phone had been replaced several times.

Dan scanned the faces of the other people in the photo - most of whom he hadn’t spoken to in a year or more, before his gaze settled on his own.

“Pretend like you’re having the time of your life!” his friend Jack had announced before snapping the photo. His girlfriend at the time had tossed an arm round his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek, and Dan’s face went adorably red just in time. His hand sat at her waist, tugging on her long blonde hair. Emily had always been beautiful, and she probably still was, although Dan wouldn’t know.

“Sir?” a security guard said to Dan, a bit impatiently. The family in front of him had finally moved on, and, judging by the impatience in the man’s voice, too long had passed without Dan’s notice.

“Sorry, yeah,” Dan said, stumbling forward and rushing to complete the inspection, entirely too preoccupied with making sure the people behind him didn’t wait one moment longer than necessary.

He was still thinking about holding up the queue when an announcement indicating that his flight had begun boarding sounded. Dan half-jogged the rest of the way to his gate. In his haste to get his ticket out, he bumped into the person in front of him in the queue.

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly, and the man turned around.

“‘S okay, I was worried about being late too,” he said kindly, offering Dan a small smile.

“You’d think that, since I’m so afraid of being late, that I’d be early to things,” Dan replied, mostly to himself. The young man smiled wider, bright blue eyes shining.

“I have the same problem. Maybe one day we’ll learn,” he said lightheartedly, and had to return his attention to the flight attendant who was checking tickets.

Dan blinked rapidly, almost dumbfounded by that short interaction.

He had a terrible habit of thinking that his existence was a nuisance to everyone around him - that everyone who talked to him had motive, that his taking up space was an inconvenience to others, that every word out of his mouth was a disruption. He’d had this mindset for as long as he could remember, and it wore on him almost every day. It was worse in new situations, which was why he hadn’t been particularly anxious about flying alone, because he was familiar with the process and knew what to expect and how he was supposed to act.

He knew he was supposed to check his ticket, stow his carry on bag, take a seat, and remain quiet for eight hours. If he were lucky, he wouldn’t have to get up to use the toilet more than once, because it might disturb his seatmate.

But as soon as he saw who his seatmate was, he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

The same young man with blue eyes was sat beside Dan’s window seat, hugging a galaxy-printed backpack to his chest. He gave a small smile when he saw Dan.

Dan blushed, awkwardly shuffling past him, tripping over his feet, probably hitting the man with his backpack, and landing rather ungracefully on his arse. Dan wanted to dissolve into the seat, because the young man was very beautiful and apparently very friendly and Dan was very stuck beside him for the next eight hours.

When Dan had recollected himself, he could feel his seatmate’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up - just kept his eyes glued to his phone until the air hostess announced that it was time to turn electronic devices off. Dan sighed, shoving his phone into his backpack and stowing it under the seat in front of him.

He felt irrationally anxious about the flight; to be honest, he was more afraid of being trapped into social interaction than he was about some kind of technical malfunction on the aeroplane.

“Takeoff’s the worst part of the flight, I think. Makes my ears pop,” the young man said quietly, and Dan hadn’t noticed the Northern affect in his voice until now.

“Yeah, same. ‘S not so bad when you get used to it, though,” Dan replied, not quite making eye contact.

“Like anything, I suppose. My name’s Phil,” he said, extending his hand towards Dan.

“I’m Dan, nice to meet you,” Dan said, going in for a handshake, while Phil’s was suddenly balled into a fist. Dan wound up awkwardly grabbing Phil’s fist.

“Is that how they say hello in the North?” Dan said, a bit defensively, retracting his hand.

“I dunno, it felt right?” Phil replied, his mouth scrunching into an embarrassed sort of smile. “I’m not very good at this.”

“Me neither,” Dan said, shrugging, and looking Phil in the face properly for the first time. He blinked rapidly, trying to decide if he knew Phil from somewhere. But he had been looking too long, so he averted his eyes.

“Introductions are weird. There should be some kind of universal code for handshakes. I’m going to write a manual. So if you’re ever in doubt, you can look up ‘stranger you’re sat next to on an aeroplane’, and know exactly how to greet them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just called etiquette.”

“Well, apparently, we’re both pretty shit at that,” Dan replied, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

The air hostess explained the safety regulations in a falsely cheerful manner, and Dan tuned out, letting his eyes trail to the window, where he watched people in bright orange vests direct traffic in the distance.

After a few minutes, the plane accelerated down the runway and took off. Dan leaned back as they climbed higher and higher, and within minutes they had reached cruising altitude.

Dan glanced at Phil, who was grimacing and digging one of his fingers into his ear. Dan tapped his arm to get his attention, and plugged his own nose and swallowed, which helped relieve the pressure. Phil copied him.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

It was silent for a few moments before Phil spoke again.

“Do you travel a lot?”

“Sometimes I go on holiday with my family. Usually to India, which is pretty cool,” Dan replied, half-snorting to himself. Phil raised an eyebrow.

“…It’s not cool because it’s, ya know, really hot in India.”

Phil laughed, like  _actually_ laughed, and Dan was positively floored.

“That wasn’t even funny,” Dan said, his voice unnaturally high. “And that wasn’t even like, a pity laugh.”

“Are you upset that I laughed at your joke?”

“It wasn’t even a joke! It was just me being dumb.”

“You’re not dumb,” Phil said resolutely. “You’re mostly just cute.”

Dan was definitely blushing, but he convinced himself that he simply  _wanted_ to break eye contact at that exact moment, so he looked down at his lap until the burning in his cheeks subsided. Phil was smiling when he looked up again.

“You know, you look kind of familiar,” Dan said, mostly thinking aloud.

“Um, maybe you know me from the internet? I make YouTube videos.”

Dan’s jaw dropped.

“Of course! You’re AmazingPhil, right? I’ve seen your videos.”

“That’s me,” Phil replied, dropping his gaze.

Dan used to be way more into YouTube when he was younger - he watched a lot of people religiously, but kind of grew out of it when he realized all of his friends didn’t spend half as much time on the internet as he did.

“I used to watch YouTube a lot more a few years ago,” Dan said.

He remembered seeing AmazingPhil, younger and with longer hair, and thinking he was great. He remembered looking up to a lot of his favourite vloggers, wishing his personality and life were half a interesting as theirs. He remembered wanting to share  _something_ with the internet; but he didn’t know what, and didn’t have the guts to try. Disheartened and slightly embarrassed of his interest, he stopped watching YouTube altogether.

“Yeah? It’s always been my biggest interest, I guess,” Phil replied, his eyes still on his feet.

“Well, don’t sound  _too_ excited about it.”

Phil let out a half-amused noise.

“I dunno, I guess I’m just nervous, is all. I’m actually headed to a YouTube convention. Ever hear of VidCon?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s my first time going, and I’ve got a stage performance with my friend PJ and my own meet and greet.”

“That’s so cool!” Dan said, probably putting too much excitement in his voice. He was always afraid that that particular phrase sounded sarcastic no matter how he said it.

Phil gave a half-smile, looking up a Dan.

“Honestly, I’m terrified. I get awful stage fright. And what if no one comes to meet me?”

“Don’t be silly,” Dan replied automatically. “If I remember you underneath years of repressed memories, there’s got to be  _thousands_ of people who know who you are. And I’m sure they’d all love to meet you.”

“I dunno about that,” Phil said shyly.

“Well, I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dan said, and he could feel himself blushing. Phil didn’t seem to notice or care; he just smiled back.

A funny little lurch in Dan’s chest made him look away; he hadn’t been that excited to talk to anyone in a _long_ time. And it wasn’t just that he knew who Phil was - although that did make him fangirl a bit - it was that Phil was easy to talk to. There was a quiet curiosity about him that intrigued Dan to no end, and he didn’t feel forced into the conversation even though Phil initiated it.

“You too,” Phil said, and they fell into comfortable silence.

Dan had brought a number of things to keep him entertained in his bag, but he would much rather converse with Phil - as weird as it was to form that thought in his brain. There was, of course, the fear that Phil didn’t want to talk to him or would wind up spending the whole flight wishing Dan would shut up. Dan decided to chance it.

“So… what’s your favourite band?”

That was an odd question for Dan to ask, really, because he had the most varied music taste of anyone he knew. He went through all kinds of phases when he was a teenager in which he discovered something to love about nearly every genre. But, still, he could pick a few favourites, like -

“Muse,” Phil replied, and Dan’s jaw fell open.

“No way?”

“Yup. My favourite album of all time is -”

“Origin of Symmetry, maybe?”

“Origin of Symmetry.”

They just stared at each other for a few seconds, then laughed.

“Well, that’s uncanny,” Dan said. “I also really like Radiohead. You don’t happen to like them do you?”

“I do, but I’m not all that familiar with them.”

“You have so much to learn,” Dan declared.

“You’ll have to educate me,” Phil agreed. After a few moments, he continued, as though it was his turn to ask a question. “Favourite TV show?”

“Oh, that’s too hard. I get too emotionally invested in so many different ones.”

“Mine’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Phil said proudly. “Best show ever.”

Dan smiled, because he remembered that Phil had Buffy posters in his room - and that was a very weird thing for Dan to know, out of all the things he could have remembered from seeing Phil on YouTube.

“Yeah, I think I remember you saying something about that in a video once,” Dan said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them.  _He’s probably used to it_ , he tried to reassure himself.  _That’s what happens when you share things on the internet._

“The memories can’t all be bad then,” Phil said, smirking at Dan a little.

“They’re not, I promise. I was just super lame and cared way too much about what my friends thought.”

“I feel like everyone’s like that at some point, you know? Especially when you’re a teenager.”

“Yeah.”

They chatted about whatever came to mind for a while, the conversation flowing naturally from one topic to another, until Dan was telling the story of one of the stupidest things he’d ever done.

“So I thought it would be a good idea to…” Dan trailed off, but Phil only looked at him encouragingly, his eyes bright.

“Er. I took a nap under a table, okay? I thought I could have a quick nap and go back to work.”

_“Dan,”_ Phil groaned. “Really?”

“I was delusional and sleep deprived and fighting drunkenness that was slowly turning into a hangover, okay?!”

Phil just cracked up laughing, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

“Did you get caught?” Phil asked.

“I won’t keep telling the story until you stop laughing at me!” Dan said indignantly, but he was giggling too. He managed to get through the rest of the story between gasps for breath, which attracted the attention of at least one air hostess and several other passengers, but, for one, he didn’t really mind.

“So what do you get up to now?” Phil asked, when they had finally composed themselves.

“Like, what’s my job, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, I work at Primark. Because clearly retail is my strength,” Dan snorted. “I also sold an axe to a child at my first job. I have no idea why Primark even hired me.”

“Wow, you should really vlog about these stories,” Phil said. “They’d make excellent videos.”

“You think?” Dan said, after considering that for a moment. He had never really considered it.

“Definitely. I feel like anyone with cool stories to share should do it somehow. I happened to choose YouTube.”

Dan nodded.

“As a former viewer, I solemnly swear to catch up on your videos.”

“Might take you a bit. I’ve been at it a while,” Phil said.

“I think I can manage. I’m very,  _very_ good at sitting and watching other people do things. If only that were a marketable skill.”

“Supervisor? Film critic? Um… that one guy on the tube who won’t stop making direct eye contact?”

“I don’t think he gets paid for that.”

They both laughed, and fell into silence again for a few minutes before Phil decided that now was the best time for his Radiohead education to begin. Dan removed his iPod and earphones from his bag, and offered one earbud to Phil. Dan scrolled through a playlist until he found a Radiohead song - something that didn’t take long - and played it.

Phil leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and listening intently. Dan would have done the same if he were alone, but, naturally, he had to watch Phil’s reaction. If Phil didn’t like it, he could always just put on ‘Creep’. 

When the song ended, Phil opened his eyes and gave Dan a small smile.

“I liked it. Seven out of ten.”

Dan grinned back; introducing people to new music had to be one of his favourite things. Dan’s smile faded when the next song played: ‘Breaking Free’ from High School Musical.

Phil perked up a bit, staring at Dan blankly until the words started, and then he beamed.

“Not what I was expecting,” Phil said with a giggle, and Dan flushed.

“Yeah, I -”

“I love High School Musical,” Phil finished. They looked at each other for no more than three seconds before cracking up.

“Of all things we could have in common…?”

“Works for me.”

They laughed again, and this time the air hostess had one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched disapprovingly, so they kept it down.

x

For most of the flight, Dan and Phil chatted intermittently about everything from YouTube to the logistics of which sea creatures would survive best on land if they suddenly grew feet.

_“Whales,_ Phil. Fucking  _whales._ They’d just crush everything and take over the world.”

“That’s not very nice to say - all the Welsh people I’ve met were very lovely.”

Dan threw Phil a pointedly unamused glare while Phil giggled behind his hands.

Dan was honestly astonished at how well they got on, and he was almost disappointed that they were getting close to his stopover in New York.

“Where are you headed from there?” Phil asked.

“California.”

“Oh really? Same as me then.”

Realization washed over Dan as it finally clicked - Phil was going to VidCon, which was held in Anaheim. Dan was going to Hollywood.

Without a word, they took out their tickets, and sure enough, they had the same flight to LAX.

“What are the odds?” Phil mused, putting his ticket back in his bag and stretching his arms (nearly hitting Dan in the head in the process).

“I dunno,” Dan said, looking up at Phil again. He had a feeling whatever astronomical odds led him to this point might have been in his favour.

x

As soon as they stepped off the plane, Phil handed Dan his backpack and made a beeline for the toilets, muttering something that sounded like  _aeroplane toilets freak me out be right back._

Dan laughed, took their bags, and settled into a corner to wait for Phil. He squinted at the board that listed the flight times, and raised his eyebrows when he saw that their connection had been delayed an hour.  _Oh well_ , he thought.  _There are worse things than being in an airport for four hours with Phil._

It felt almost weird to refer to Phil so casually, as though they were already close friends after having spent only eight hours together. Dan couldn’t help but feel like they just  _clicked._ He had never hit it off with anyone so easily. He and Phil had a quick, back-and-forth banter that was playfully antagonistic and sarcastic yet - he hoped he wasn’t imagining it - affectionate.

He tapped the button on his phone so it would display the time. It was one in the afternoon in New York, but his body was stuck in the British evening. It would be worse when he made it to LA, but he tried not to think about that, because Phil was approaching him, a small smile on his face. Dan smiled back, his eyes trailing over Phil’s body. He snorted.

“Your fly’s undone.”

“What? Oh,” Phil said, placing his hands over his crotch and looking around, as if to check that no one else had seen.

“This always happens,” Phil muttered, attempting to nonchalantly pull the stubborn zip up.

Dan cracked up, throwing his head back and cackling shamelessly.

“Actually shut up! You’ll attract hyenas!”

Dan stopped laughing, exchanging a glance with Phil, who had finally succeeded in zipping his jeans.

“Do I really sound like a hyena?” Dan said quietly.

Phil’s face fell, and he sat down beside Dan.

“No, of course not. I was only joking. Your laugh is great.”

“It’s okay - people always tell me it’s obnoxious.”

Phil placed a hand on Dan’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not. You have one of those amazing laughs that’s funnier than any joke.”

“You think?”

“I know. And you’d best not try to hold it back because I love making you laugh.”

Dan full-on blushed, and Phil’s hand lingered on his knee for a few moments before he withdrew it.

“Connection’s been delayed,” Dan informed him.

“Oh?” Phil said, checking the board. “Only by two hours, not so bad.”

“ _Two_ hours? It was only an hour last I checked.”

“It says two,” Phil said, pointing. Dan followed his finger and sure enough, Phil was right.

“That doesn’t bode well.”

“Neither does that,” Phil said, his finger now extended towards the window behind them. Clouds loomed in the distance in apparent impending doom.

“Well, shit. We might as well get comfortable,” Dan said, pushing his luggage to the side so he could stretch his legs.

“This is why I always leave an extra day in my travel time. Never know what’s going to happen.”

“You’re a better planner than I am.”

“The delay won’t mess anything up for you, will it?” Phil asked, his brows drawing together in concern.

“Not unless it lasts for a full day.”

Phil nodded, then something seemed to occur to him, and he spun round in his chair, knocking his knuckles into the wooden chair rail behind them.

“Don’t jinx it!” Phil said, and Dan smiled.

“You’re superstitious?”

“Blame my mum,” Phil said with a shrug. “I really hope we don’t get delayed too long then, for your sake.”

“Yeah. I just need to be at a specific place at a specific time,” Dan said, and Phil remained quiet, not prying. But Dan continued anyway.

“I’m kind of… God, it sounds so stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

Dan sighed.

“I’m meeting up with my ex girlfriend. See, we made this - I dunno, pact - that we would meet at the Hollywood Walk of Fame in three years’ time if we still wanted to be together and I just -” Dan tapped the display on his phone, staring at his lockscreen.

“I’ve barely even spoken to her in those three years but here I am, travelling halfway across the world because I don’t know what the fuck else to do,” he said, burying his face in his hands. He felt Phil’s hand rub his back.

“It’s not stupid,” Phil said softly.

“Oh, but it  _is._ See, it was her idea. She didn’t want to have a boyfriend when she started Uni because that ‘projects a certain image’ or some shit, I dunno. Personally I didn’t give a shit about what ‘image I projected’ when I started Uni, I just wanted to go for… I dunno. Point is that she didn’t want to be with me anymore - after over three years together she just  _decided_ she didn’t want me anymore and probably put together this whole thing just to let me down easy. It’s so fucking stupid, and if I had any sense I’d board the next plane back to England and just go home.”

“Do you want to do that?” asked Phil, and Dan looked up.

“Well, I’ve already come this far.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Dan ran a hand through his hair.

“No, I guess not.”

“So go to California. Like you said, you’ve already come this far. And you’re not stupid for clinging to the hope that she gave you. Maybe she really did just need some time to sort herself out at Uni and everything.”

“She said she did it for me, too, so I’d have time to sort my own shit out before we made any kind of long-term commitment. Only problem is, I thought we were already _in_  a long-term commitment. And I fucking dropped out of Uni, so that was pointless for me too.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Phil said, but Dan just shook his head.

“I was supposed to be a lawyer. It was such a  _good_ plan, you know? Such a clever choice for a degree and it’s what my parents wanted me to do. But I couldn’t do it.”

Phil frowned and nodded, tentatively placing a hand between Dan’s shoulder blades and rubbing circles into his back.

“It happens, you know. If nobody ever gave Michaelangelo a paintbrush, no one would have known he was a brilliant painter. You just have to find what you’re meant to do.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Dan said, smiling sadly. “You’ve found your thing, haven’t you? On YouTube?”

“Yeah. I make enough to pay my bills. I’d like to live a bit more comfortably, but I love doing it so I know it’s what I’m supposed to be doing, even if I could make a more reliable income doing something else.”

Dan nodded. He couldn’t help but think that since he and Phil were so similar, at least at the surface, then maybe that meant something?

Dan glanced over at Phil, whose hand was still on his back. They exchanged small smiles before Dan sunk lower in his chair, and Phil removed his hand.

Phil yawned dramatically, as if on cue, because a loud rumble of thunder erupted from behind them. They both turned round in their seats, and sure enough, it had started to pour.

“Might as well get comfortable, then,” Dan mumbled, removing his Nintendo DS from his backpack.

“Do you have Mario Kart?” Phil asked, doing the same.

Dan nodded, and a wicked grin curved Phil’s mouth.

“You’re on.”

x

Nearly five hours later, no helpful updates about their flight had been issued. Dan heard several people bickering with the airline assistant, insisting that they  _had_ to be on a plane by a certain time or it was going to fuck up their whole lives or something. Frankly, he was too tired to care.

Phil had conked out at hour four, slumping into Dan’s arm, so Dan adjusted their positions so that Phil’s head was on his shoulder, Dan’s spare hoodie draped over him.

Dan kept himself awake by having his own personal AmazingPhil marathon, starting with the few most recent videos. He remembered Phil’s videos being a bit quirky but expertly crafted, and that still held true.

He tried not to laugh directly in Phil’s ear as he watched on-screen Phil read out his teenage chat logs. He felt a pang of nostalgia for MSN, even if it was a bit before his time.

Dan completely lost track of time, and Phil nearly smacked his head against Dan’s face as he woke up, apparently disoriented.

“Sorry,” Phil muttered, straightening up and blinking rapidly. Phil scowled, rubbing his eyes vigorously.

“You okay?”

“Fell asleep with my contacts in. I don’t remember where I packed my glasses or I would have worn those,” he muttered, still blinking rapidly and making a number of amusing derp-faces.  

“Are you sure you packed them?”

“Yeah, I remember putting them in a bag. And then that bag went into another bag, which went into a suitcase.”

“Ah. That’s my preferred method of packing as well. Stuff things wherever they will fit. And then stuff the things you remember last minute in the remaining available crevices.”

“That’s how you do it,” Phil agreed, finally regaining sight. He peeked at Dan’s laptop screen, and frowned a little. “So you were  _watching me while I slept._ Who are you, Edward Cullen?”

“Ha, ha. You’re not funny.”

“Then why were you laughing at the video?”

“Weren’t you sleeping?”

Phil dropped his gaze, removing Dan’s hoodie from his lap and handing it back.

“Kind of. Was starting to gain consciousness and then kind of did all at once.”

“Riiiight,” Dan said, giving Phil’s shoulder a playful nudge.

“How much longer are we stuck here?” Phil groaned, slumping back onto Dan’s shoulder.

“No idea. All I’ve heard is people complaining at the airline, as though they can control the weather.”

“I wanted to be a weatherman when I was a child,” Phil said sleepily.

“Huh. Phil Lester: weatherman. Kinda has a ring to it, I think.”

Phil let out a half-amused noise, and then sat up abruptly just as Dan was about to lean his head against Phil’s.

“ _Jesus_ , Phil. You need to stop that. Gonna take my eye out.”

“Yeah, cos my fringe is incredibly sharp. Anyway, I just realised I don’t even know your last name.”

“Howell. If you howl like a wolf, I swear to God -” Dan glanced at Phil, whose mouth had formed an O, seemingly to do just that. Phil’s face fell in exaggerated guilt.

“That’s right, be ashamed. You’re no better than the kids in year one.”

Phil crossed his arms over his chest, pouting and refusing to look at Dan.

Dan wondered how a grown man could look so adorable, even when he wasn’t purposely acting childish. Also how he could be all of that  _and_ one of the most attractive men Dan had ever seen - but that was another question entirely. Phil was an enigma, Dan decided. And he would like the chance to be able to unravel it.

x

Finally, the airline announced that they would be rebooking everyone’s flight for the following morning, and offered passengers hotel reservations for the night. Dan figured it was about damn time, since Phil had appointed Dan to be the one to stay awake for news by falling asleep again. It was creeping into the wee hours of the morning in England, and Dan’s body wouldn’t let him forget it.

He managed to get Phil conscious enough to queue up to speak to an attendant about hotels, but Phil still mimed being asleep on Dan’s shoulder when it was their turn.

“Room for two?” the woman asked with a kind smile. Dan blanched, and this time, Phil actually  _did_ smack Dan in the face with his head.

“Sorry,” Phil murmured to Dan. “Um, I dunno?” he said.

“Yeah, um, I mean -”

“No problem, my mistake,” she said quickly, probably just as embarrassed at the suggestion as they were. She clicked the mouse of her computer a few times.

“There are two rooms available that are adjoining, would you like those?”

Dan gulped, wondering what kind of image they projected. They had just met, but meanwhile, this woman assumed they were connected in such a meaningful capacity that she offered to keep them together for the night. Dan was absolutely astonished, but tried not to show it as he gave Phil his nod of approval when Phil raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Phil said, giving Dan a reassuring smile.

“Hope you’re not an axe murderer,” Dan muttered, not loud enough for the attendant to hear.

“My weapon of choice is actually a chainsaw,” Phil whispered back.

“Oh, thank goodness.”

x

The process of actually getting to their hotel rooms appeared to give Phil a second wind, as he was no longer dozing off on Dan (although Dan wouldn’t have minded).

Their rooms were connected with two doors, one on each side, and Dan was surprised to hear Phil opening his as soon as he entered his own room. Dan shrugged, figuring that if neither of them were going to sleep right away, they might as well leave the doors open.

Phil flopped onto Dan’s bed, spreading his limbs and taking up as much space as possible. Dan shook his head.

“One: you’re really obnoxious. And, two, you don’t even  _know_ me and you’re sprawling out all over my bed. You’re rude.”

Phil laughed, propping his head up in his hands.

“But the thing is that I  _do_ because, somehow, I know you don’t actually think that. I’ve had more meaningful conversations with you in the past twelve hours than I’ve had with my closest friends in months. I’d like to think I’m a good judge of character.”

Dan snorted, but he had to admit that he agreed with Phil on all accounts.

“You don’t think I’m crazy for thinking that, do you?” Phil said, faltering a little. Dan sat down on the edge of the bed.

“No, I don’t. So either I’m really stupid or we’re both crazy.”

“Or we’ve formed some kind of magical bond and will now star in an epic tale of adventure, friendship, and conquest,” Phil said dramatically, and Dan just shook his head.

“Is this your way of telling me you consider me a friend?”

Phil laughed, and Dan knew the answer.

Dan sat up a little straighter, as though bracing himself for some kind of blow, but the awkwardness never came. For some unknown reason, it didn’t feel weird to be there with Phil. Maybe it was the jetlag or travel exhaustion talking, but something in Dan’s gut told him he could trust Phil. So he went with it.

“Hey Phil?”

“Yeah?” Phil asked, sitting up and mirroring Dan’s cross-legged position.

“Could you tell me more about YouTube? Like, what it’s like to be a YouTuber full-time? How does one even get to this point?”

Phil beamed at him, and was more energetic than Dan had ever seen him as he did just that.

Phil told him all about how he got started - a camera from a cereal box, who would have thought? - to where he was now, with several hundred thousand subscribers and official events at gatherings.

“It’s a bit mental, when I think about it all at once, you know? Like, why do people care about what I have to say to a camera? I’m just Phil.”

“I’d wager that you’re not  _just_ anything, but go on,” Dan said, thoroughly enraptured.

Phil launched into a description of his day to day life. Dan assumed that most of Phil’s time would be taken up by shooting, but in reality, it was a  _lot_ of editing. And, most importantly, building a social media presence.

“I feel like that’s what separates ‘YouTubers’ from people who just do it for fun. You have to build an online community, you know? You have to engage with your viewers and make yourself accessible to them.”

“Wow. I didn’t know it was so complicated.”

“Yeah. People don’t understand all the hard work and stuff that goes into it. It’s much more than posting videos. At least, the way I do it.”

Dan grinned at him.

“Well, I think you’re really amazing at what you do. And yes, that was a fucking pun.”

Phil laughed. “Wow, so original. I’ve never heard that one before.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Originality: a guide by Dan.”

“I’d buy it,” Phil said, stretching his arms and scrunching his face up, which was inordinately cute.

“Really?”

“‘Course I would. I think you’ve got a lot to bring to the table in terms of originality,” Phil said, and Dan could tell Phil knew what he was getting at.

“Do you think I could be a successful YouTuber?” Dan asked, his heart rate speeding up and bracing him for the worst.

“I think anyone can as long as they love it and make good content that they’re proud of. If you can do that, people will be proud to watch you.”

“I dunno about that. People will think I’m boring,” Dan sighed.

He was convinced that he was incredibly uninteresting - that he could never have a career in entertainment because that would require being, you know, entertaining. It was his childhood dream to be an actor. Emily had shared that dream, and that’s why they chose the Walk of Fame as their meeting place.

It was almost odd to think about his original reason for being there, especially because he wanted to add ‘with Phil’ to the end of that thought. But the fact remained that acting and Emily had been his dream once, and he had no better endeavors to make a half-hearted attempt at pursuing.

“Of course you’re not,” Phil said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I am, though. Nobody would want to hear me waffle about random things.”

Phil wrapped an arm around Dan’s shoulders, squeezing him closer.

“Dan, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, you’re  _very_ interesting. I’ve been stuck with you for the past day and I haven’t gotten bored of you yet.”

“Everyone kind of does, though, eventually. I’m not even trying to be self-pitying or whatever - that’s just a fact.”

Phil sighed, rubbing his thumb against Dan’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Dan said. “I’m really a downer sometimes, aren’t I? No wonder people don’t think I’m worth the effort.”

Dan really didn’t want to keep spilling his personal baggage on Phil, but he couldn’t help himself. His verbal filters were completely gone, and Phil was a good listener. If there was one thing Dan was missing in his life, it was a shoulder to cry on.

“Of course you’re worth the effort,” Phil murmured.

“How do you know that? You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t need to,” Phil insisted. “You’re a person. That alone has a lot of worth.”

Dan leaned away from Phil to get a better look at his face, squinting. He managed to capture what Dan had been trying to convince himself of his whole life, just like that. A beautiful fucking enigma, he was.

All filters, inhibitions, and sense be damned, Dan took Phil’s face in his hands and made it ninety percent of the way to Phil’s lips before he lost his nerve. He was already planning to pull away and apologize when Phil closed the distance, quickly and sweetly and softly.

Dan exhaled as he pulled away, trying to ease the fluttery feeling in his gut.

“I had to do that once,” Dan said breathlessly, his hands dropping into his lap.

“I wouldn’t say no to a second time,” Phil said. Dan was actually comforted by the fact that Phil had gone very red in the face; it was nice to know that there were points at which Phil lost his cool. And Dan got a semi-twisted but mostly prideful sense of pleasure at being the cause.

“You sure?”

“I dunno, I’m only about…” Phil stared up at the ceiling, counting on his fingers. “A million percent sure. Give or take.”

Dan tried not to smile, shaking his head and and staring at Phil.

“What? You have to consider margin of error,” Phil said, clearly holding back laughter.

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you say we don’t know each other,” Phil quipped back, poking his finger into Dan’s dimple as Dan grinned at him.

“I stand corrected,” Dan said, and as much as he enjoyed the witty banter, he could think of several better uses for his tongue at the moment.

They leaned towards each other simultaneously, Dan’s hands settling on Phil’s shoulders and Phil’s on Dan’s hips.  

Dan took Phil’s top lip between his own, kissing him ever so gently. Dan tilted his head slightly before going in again, pressing harder and lingering longer each time.

Phil kissed back with equal force, his fingertips digging into Dan’s back to pull him closer, which threw off their balance, as they were both sitting cross-legged. Dan went toppling onto Phil, both of them laughing and falling onto the duvet.

“Sorry,” Phil murmured.

“That’s okay,” Dan replied, adjusting himself so that he had one knee on either side of Phil’s hips. “I think I’m relatively unscathed,” he said, pressing his lips to Phil’s.

Phil lowered his hands to Dan’s hips again, taking handfuls of Dan’s shirt and grazing his fingertips against Dan’s bare skin as he did so. Dan sat back on his heels, lifting his arms to grab at the collar of his shirt, and Phil faltered.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean -” he stuttered. Dan gave a nervous giggle.

“Oh, um, just a reflex, I suppose. We can keep going if you want, though.”

“Yeah? I mean,” Phil dropped his gaze, but his fingers were still on Dan’s bare skin. “I’ve never done anything like this before. As in, we just met, not that I’ve never -”

“Phil,” Dan said quietly, half-amused. “It’s okay. Me neither. Truth be told, I’m nervous as shit right now. But it feels right.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Phil said, smiling into the next kiss. “It’s a nice feeling.”

Dan took comfort in the fact that Phil was nervous as well. He was obviously pretty confident when he wanted to be, so to know that he was feeling the same way as Dan was reassuring. But if it felt right to Phil too, then Dan had no problem meeting him halfway.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed, and lifted his arms for Phil to hoist his shirt up. Phil tossed the fabric away carelessly, when a disconcerting  _thunk_ and sudden dimness in the room made both of them snap their heads in the direction of the noise. The shirt had caught on the lamp on the bedside table, covering the lampshade and knocking it on its side.

_“Shit,”_ Phil cursed under his breath. Dan couldn’t help it - he rolled off of Phil and flopped onto the duvet, gasping for breath between cackles. He saw Phil shift his gaze from Dan to the lamp and back, before he too started laughing. Phil covered his face in his hands.

“Oh my  _god_ , you don’t understand how typical for me that is.”

“Somehow, I can see it.”

“I’ve ruined the mood, haven’t I?”

Dan considered that for a moment. No, he didn’t want to kiss Phil any less than he had thirty seconds prior - but under the adrenaline, his body was screaming for rest.

“No, you haven’t. But I really think we should sleep,” Dan said, propping himself up on his elbow and facing Phil. “I don’t want you to get offended when I fall asleep in the middle of something.”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I think my body’s starting to realize how tired it is.” He hoisted himself off of the bed and lingered by the door, his eyes raking shamelessly over Dan’s bare torso.

“Maybe we should save this for another time?” he said quietly, and Dan smirked.

“I’d like that.”

Phil grinned at him, and closed both doors behind him as he exited Dan’s room.

Dan was thrilled that there would be another time.

x

Dan wasn’t sure  _when_ exactly that time would be, though, since they inevitably had to part ways at LAX - after spending another afternoon mildly annoying other passengers and airport dwellers.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” Phil said, when they had been standing there with their hands on their suitcases in silence for too long.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Dan said, smiling. He wasn’t sure what his parting gesture should be; on a whim, he leaned down and pecked Phil’s cheek.

“Have fun at VidCon. You’re going to be great.”

Phil beamed at him.

“Good luck in Hollywood. Let me know how it goes, yeah?” Phil said, handing Dan his phone to type his number into. Dan did the same, and they swapped phones back.

“Thanks, Phil,” Dan said, because it felt wrong to say goodbye. Instead, he just brought two of his fingers to his forehead and gave Phil a little salute. Phil grinned at him one last time before Dan turned on his heels and walked away, rolling his suitcase behind him.

He only hoped he could transfer his newfound confidence into his meeting with Emily.

x

Dan got lost three separate times on his way to the Walk of Fame, and eventually had to resort to looking like a tourist and asking someone for directions. Their directions were maddeningly unhelpful, as the man clearly thought that Dan had a working knowledge of the local street names.

Trudging angrily around Hollywood wasn’t the worst way for Dan to blow off steam, though - he was incredibly anxious, as he had no idea if Emily would even turn up. They hadn’t had a proper conversation in, what was it, a year? Maybe two?

Dan shook his head, because he was so fucking  _stupid_ for coming all the way here for this. What was he even trying to hold onto?

Dan had to admit he was grasping at straws. He hated his job, living with his parents, having no ambition in life, and he was already starting to judge himself a little for nearly hooking up with Phil the previous night. He was a fucking mess, and he just wanted somebody to hold onto.

And there was a time when Emily was that for him - she was smart, quick-witted, honest. Sometimes, when Dan got annoyed with her, he realized that it was because she was acting like him. Three years in a relationship with the same person changes who you are, and Dan couldn’t help but feel like there was still a piece of him that would always belong to her. She was his first love, and was he really that stupid for maybe wanting that back?

Dan didn’t want to answer his own question, because he had reached the first star that read ‘Hollywood Walk of Fame’.

_No shit,_ Dan thought bitterly, swallowing and looking around. A few people made eye contact, apparently perturbed by the presence of a tall man dressed in all black in the California summer. Dan figured that it was probably because he was stopped in the middle of the busy throng of people, and he stepped off to the side, leaning against a building.

And he waited.

It felt to awkward to people-watch, as he was taller than the vast majority of people he observed, so he drained his phone battery for several hours, falling into a deeper state of anxiety and dread.

_Why didn’t we decide upon a time? Maybe she didn’t mean this exact day. Maybe we didn’t even make this agreement at all and I dreamt it. Maybe this, right now, is a dream._

Dan shook his head to clear it, but it didn’t work. His stomach sunk somewhere between his ankles when he realized that the sun was beginning to set, and Emily was nowhere to be found.

The crowd had thinned a little as it grew darker, so Dan didn’t see any problem with sitting down on the pavement, because he had nowhere else to go - in every sense of the word.

_Pathetic_ , he cursed himself, biting back tears and staring at the pointedly at the ground.

_You’re aware you’re sitting on a pile of your failures, right?_ that nasty little critic in his mind hissed.  _Not only is Emily not here, but you’re not an actor - not even close. You’re not even a lawyer, like your parents wanted you to be. What have you got to show for the past three years? Not a degree, or even a job you like or that you’re good at. Your parents and friends think you’re crazy for coming here. And maybe you are._

Dan buried his face in his hands, hoping that some kind of law enforcement wouldn’t come along and see him having a mental breakdown on a landmark. He willed himself not to cry, trying to take deep breaths, but they were coming too quickly.

His worst fears seemed to be realised as a hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Dan watched as  _Phil, of all people,_ sat down beside him.

“Hey,” Dan said weakly. “This wasn’t really what I had in mind for our next meeting.”

“Sorry,” Phil replied quickly. “I just - most of my friends haven’t arrived yet and I had nothing to do, so I figured I’d take the walk myself.”

One side of Dan’s mouth quirked up, but he didn’t smile.

“You probably saw this coming, didn’t you?”

Phil considered that for a moment, snaking his arm around Dan’s shoulders.

“Her loss,” was all he said in response.

x

Eventually, the owner of the shop they had been leaning against asked them, very politely, not to loiter after business hours.

“Sorry,” Phil said to her, helping Dan up with him. He didn’t let go of Dan’s hand. “So, where would you like to go?”

Dan smiled.

“Not entirely sure. But I’d like to go this way for a while,” he said, pointing in the direction of the stars. “Care to join me?”

“I’d be honored.”

_January 2013_

Dan was beginning to think that he owed Emily for tipping the first domino that put him on that trip, next to Phil, and into his new life. But that was a bit of an exaggeration.

As much as he wanted to think his life had changed dramatically, there were really only two new things, and they were very difficult to separate: YouTube and Phil.

It didn’t take long for Phil to convince Dan to give vlogging a try, and even if he hated almost everything he created, Phil insisted he keep going. And he really enjoyed it.

His channel had been decently operational for about five months, and, with Phil’s help, it had gained thousands of subscribers nearly instantly. Dan posted videos as regularly as he could manage, between finding times that he wasn’t working and that no one would hear him filming during and generally taking forever to edit. Phil told him nearly every day over Skype that he was being too hard on himself - he had just started out and couldn’t expect to be at the level he wanted to be just yet.

“Things like editing skill and camera presence and creative confidence take time,” Phil said, and his grainy image on Dan’s laptop screen didn’t seem to dull his smile.

“I guess,” Dan sighed, adjusting his laptop just a bit so that Phil wasn’t seeing him from such a horrific angle. He had his laptop sat on his desk, next to his desktop, which he was attempting to use to edit his latest creation. It wasn’t going well, and Phil’s daily Skype call couldn’t have come soon enough.

“You’re doing really well, Dan,” Phil insisted. “You just have to keep at it.”

“Yeah,” Dan admitted, scowling at a terrible jump cut and pressing ‘undo’ an inordinate amount of times.

“Maybe I should go and let you focus.”

Dan looked at his laptop and frowned at the camera.

“I’ll never get it done unless you’re sitting here coaching me,” Dan whined, but abruptly sat up a little straighter. “But if you have to go it’s fine - I won’t keep you.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” Phil replied. “Just thought I’d offer in case I was distracting you or something.”

“No, you’re helping. Knowing you’re staring at me encourages me.”

“Who said I’m staring?” Phil asked, acting affronted.

“The brightness on your screen hasn’t changed at all. So either you’re very good at surreptitiously switching windows, or all of them have the same brightness.”

“Calm down, Sherlock,” Phil scoffed, but he was laughing. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

“Right,” Dan said, hoping that his dinosaur of a laptop’s camera was too low quality to pick up on his blushing.

He had been doing that a  _lot_ lately; Phil was an expert flirter, and when Dan pointed that out to him, he said it was just lack of filters. He just said whatever came to mind without thinking about it, and that was apparently an effective way to make Dan go red and giggly. And he continued to do it even after Dan pointed this out to him - which made Dan’s imagination go a bit wild.

Although, if he was honest with himself, he legitimately felt like he and Phil were in a long-distance relationship of sorts. They Skyped every day for as long as possible (usually several hours), texted constantly, counted down the days they could see each other again - and all of that was punctuated by flirting that was enough to make Phil’s friend PJ roll his eyes at them.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ had said, in lieu of introducing himself to Dan. He had invited Dan to his Christmas party, though, on the grounds that Phil never shut up about him. Dan had just laughed awkwardly and said hello. PJ didn’t tease them openly the rest of the night, but Dan had a feeling PJ had picked up on the same thing that was making Dan shift uncomfortably in his seat now.

“Hey Dan?” Phil said, and Dan wondered how long he had been silent.

“Yeah?”

“This might seem like a weird question, but you know how I told you that my flatmate Mark was going to propose to his girlfriend?”

Dan nodded.

“Well she said yes, so he’s going to live with her now.”

“Oh really? That’s great! Tell them I said congrats,” Dan said enthusiastically, although he was still wary of just where Phil was going with this.

“Yeah, they’re really adorable so I’m glad they’re not going to be around me all the time,” Phil said jokingly. “Anyway, point is that I can’t afford the rent here on my own, and I was already thinking of finding a better flat, so… would you maybe want to live with me?”

Dan blanched, unable to keep from gaping at Phil.

“Not where I thought you were going with that,” he said, composing himself. “But… yeah. I think I would like that,” Dan said, practically without thinking. There were so many things to consider, that, logically, he should have told Phil that he had to think about it. But he went with his gut, and his gut was screaming  _yes._

“Really? I mean you can say no if you want, I just wanted to tell you my thought process and everything…” Phil trailed off, smiling sheepishly.

“No, yeah, it makes sense. Imagine how many videos we could make together,” Dan said, trying to ignore the very loud part of his brain that was insisting that there were  _much_ more fun benefits to living with Phil.

Phil beamed. “Yeah! That’s what I was thinking. Maybe we could even start a collab channel.”

“The possibilities are endless,” Dan mused.

He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to  _that_ space again - the space that told him that this was a major ‘relationship’ milestone. But it didn’t feel like one.

Sure, Dan and Phil had just agreed to live together, if possible. But it wasn’t like Phil’s flatmate and his girlfriend. If it had been, Phil wouldn’t have brought it up over Skype, nor started the conversation by talking about Mark moving out.

“Plus,” Phil continued, derailing Dan’s train of thought. “It’ll be nice to hang out without this in the way,” Phil said, dramatically wiggling his laptop screen so that his image moved around.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed. “Once a month is not enough quality time for me to get sick of you.”

“You’ll get incredibly tired of seeing my face. Especially in the mornings.”

Dan laughed.

“I’m no ray of sunshine in the mornings either. Or the afternoons. Or the evenings. Generally, I’m only tolerable when I’m asleep.”

“That’s not true. You’re mildly tolerable from around eleven to midnight.”

“Oh, a one-hour span? I’ll take it.”

They both laughed, and Dan had completely given up on editing, turning to face his laptop to give Phil all of his attention.

“Seriously though? You’d want to live together?” Phil asked, and Dan smiled.

“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. Being here is pretty draining. I can find a job in London. Probably. Hopefully.”

“Maybe you won’t need one?” Phil proposed. “You said you wanted to do YouTube full-time like I do. Maybe now’s the time to start.”

Dan raised his eyebrows.

“You really think I have what it takes to do this all the time?” Dan asked, gesturing towards his desktop.

“Of course. You just have to work at it. And, if you have lots of free time and filming equipment…” Phil trailed off, beaming.

“I’ll think about it.”

x

Truth be told, it wasn’t long before Dan came to realize that Phil was right: being a YouTuber was his dream, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take the steps to go out and reach it. He and Phil had worked out the logistics of moving house together, and everything seemed to be going swimmingly.

Even Dan’s parents had noticed that was the case - they commented about how Dan seemed happier, made passing remarks about him always having a ‘mysterious man’ in his room, although they never really asked about Phil much. They knew Dan and Phil met on the way to California, and had become close friends since. But they had no idea about Dan’s plans for YouTube or moving out.

It was just a matter of plucking up the courage to talk to them.

Dan saw the opportunity one night at dinner, when Adrian was at a friend’s and his parents seemed to be in relatively good spirits, prattling on about their plans to visit Dan’s grandparents in the summer.

“You’ll come as well, right Dan?” his dad said.

“Um, I dunno. If I can, then sure.”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to? Won’t they give you a few days off from work?” his mum asked.

“It’s not that it’s just - I’ve been talking to Phil about maybe moving in with him in London.”

“London?” his dad repeated, apparently dumbfounded. “What could you get up to in London?”

“Much more than I could do here,” Dan replied. “I’ve been taking making YouTube videos a lot more seriously now, Dad. There are creator spaces and workshops by Google and stuff in London. Not to mention entire groups of YouTubers who are all friends. I could work with them more.”

His parents looked unconvinced, so Dan pressed on.

“I know it might be weird to you guys, but - it’s a whole community of creators. People who make videos as their jobs. I could learn so much from them about how to build this up, because I think it’s what I want to do. Like, as my career.”

His mum seemed to consider that, but his dad raised his eyebrows.

“A career out of making videos on the internet?”

Dan nodded slowly, feeling his confidence drain out of him with every word of doubt.

“That’s what pornstars do, don’t they?” Dad snorted, and Dan wasn’t sure if he was entirely joking - that the level of respect he had for what Dan wanted to do was equivalent to that of pornstars.

“Come on now,” Mum said, patting her husband on the arm. “If this is what Dan wants to do, then we should support him, right?”

“Of course, but,” he hesitated, avoiding Dan’s gaze. Of course there was a ‘but’.

“I always thought you’d make such a great lawyer. I dunno what happened there.”

Dan swallowed. Apparently his prayers that the conversation wouldn’t steer this way went unheard.

“University kicked my arse, Dad. It made me miserable. I never want to go back.”

“Oh,  _never?_ So much for taking a few years off.”

“You had to know this would happen,” Mum chimed in, addressing her husband once again. “I knew that he wouldn’t go back once he dropped out.”

“Sitting right here,” Dan snapped.

“Well, it’s true!” she insisted. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. I just didn’t think this would be what you decided on is all.”

Dan sighed.

“Well, I really think this is what I’m meant to do.”

“That’s fine,” Dad said. “I just don’t see why you have to do it in London. You’ve got a camera in your bedroom that you talk to all the time.”

“Like I said, it’s more the community that -”

“Has this got something to do with Phil?” Mum asked, and Dan’s stomach sunk into the floor.

“Um, well he is the one I’ll be living with.”

“Right, yes, but are you -” she broke off, still staring at Dan contemplatively, as though looking for some kind of evidence to support what she was going to say next. Dan could see her reviewing the conversation they’d had when he was sixteen - the last time his bisexuality had been discussed.

“What?” Dad asked, staring at his wife, then back at Dan, as though putting two and two together.

“Is Phil your boyfriend?” his mum finally got out, and Dan practically smacked himself in the face.

“Mum, that’s hardly relevant -”

“Is he though?” his dad insisted, and the intensity of his gaze gave Dan the impression that he was being x-rayed.

“Dad -” Dan said, as his parents were the last two people on earth he wanted to have this conversation with. He had already gone off and put weird labels on his and Phil’s relationship without consulting Phil; he didn’t need his parents doing it too.

“I think we’d both like to know the answer,” his mum said, and Dan knew she was trying to be gentle, but god if it didn’t feel like they were prying him open with pliers.

“No, okay? He’s not my boyfriend. We’re not together. He’s my friend, and I don’t see how the two of you can’t wrap your heads around the fact that that’s all it is.”

“Well, you talk to him quite a lot,” Mum continued. “Sometimes, the way you talk about him reminds me of how you used to talk about Emily.”

Dan wanted to rip his eyes out, because his mum  _clearly_ didn’t understand how to talk about sensitive things. Or when to leave them alone.

“Well, would you like him to be your boyfriend?” Dad asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I dunno, maybe? I’m done talking about Phil, okay? We’re moving in together and I thought you should know that.” Dan got up to leave, but his father’s sudden change in facial expression made him freeze.

“Excuse me, I thought we were joking around.”

Dan gulped.

“What d’you mean?”

“You’re not  _actually_ interested in men are you?”

_Oh, god. Why do you hate me?_

“Yes, Dad, I am. We went over this years ago. I like girls and boys. You thought it was a phase. It’s not.”

“Daniel,” Mum piped in, cautiously glancing at her husband, who was getting visibly angry. Dan was beyond caring.

“Well, excuse me for hoping that my son wouldn’t be gay his whole life.”

_I can’t even count the number of things wrong with that statement._

“I’m not gay, Dad. Not even half. One-hundred percent bisexual.”

“I’m just trying to protect you!” his dad said, clearly exasperated that his intentions, whatever the hell they were, weren’t being heard. “Gay people face awful discrimination and I don’t want you to have to deal with that, alright? That’s why I hoped you’d settle down with a nice girl like Emily. You could live your whole life without that trouble.”

Dan nearly smacked his face into the nearest wall, but settled for face-palming instead.

“Deep down, like, really, really deep down, I know you mean well. But you clearly don’t understand what you’re talking about. And I’d really love it if you would stop fucking bringing up Emily.”

“Language,” his mom chastised.

“We  _are_ always looking out for you!” his dad insisted. “That’s why I wanted you to be a lawyer with a wife and a house and all of that. Your life would be so good that way.”

“Well, I guess I’m just a massively queer, college-dropout, internet hobo disappointment then. Maybe Adrian will grow up to meet your standards.”

With that, Dan left the room, his hands shaking as he slammed his bedroom door behind him.

Twenty-one years of suffocating on his parents’ expectations caught up with Dan all at once as he crawled onto his bed, hugging his knees to his chest and willing himself to curl up into a ball so tight that he could disappear.

His parents had always been relatively supportive, if critical, of his interests. But he could count on one hand the number of times they told him they were proud of him. He felt like his parents’ love and acceptance - and, most importantly now that he was older, their respect - were things he had to earn. That he had to prove himself worthy of things that parents were supposed to give unconditionally.

And then there was the matter of proving his own worth to himself, which he was inarguably shit at. While finding his niche and making the most supportive friend he had ever had and not having the whole ‘Emily’ thing hanging over him helped - the fact remained that sometimes, he really hated himself.

It wasn’t  _always_ there - that much would have been damn near impossible to deal with. But self-loathing followed him everywhere he went, like a shadow - sometimes it would grow to be larger than Dan himself, stretching its dark expanses across pavement, and sometimes it would disappear completely. Under the right circumstances, though, it could creep up behind him at any moment. Other people need only shine a light on him to see what he really was: imperfect by any standards, and he found that to be exceedingly unacceptable.

Dan could hear his parents arguing loudly downstairs, but he forced himself to ignore them, just in case his mum was defending him. He didn’t deserve it; he  _deserved_ to feel as low as he was. Any attempts at soothing himself were immediately shut down, as though his brain were sucked into a whirlpool of negative self-talk:

_Why couldn’t you just do law like you were supposed to?_

_The fuck do you like boys for? You know Dad thinks you’re a faggot on the fence and he hopes you’ll cross to the straight side one day._

_Mum’s right about Emily, you know - you missed your chance with her._

_No wonder she didn’t want you, look at you._

_Look at yourself - what do you see?_

_I see too much fat, not enough muscle. Too feminine in the face, you are._

_But most of all, I see failure. Why do you even bother?_

Dan couldn’t even bring himself to get up and retrieve some tissues to blow his nose or wipe his face; he just lied there, stewing in his own misery, until his phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t need to check it to know that it was Phil, asking how the talk with his parents had gone.  _To hell, that’s where it went,_ Dan thought bitterly, even though it made no grammatical sense.

The yelling had stopped, and he heard the beat of his mum’s light footsteps on the stairs. She rapped on the door a few times. Dan said nothing, didn’t even move. It wasn’t even that he didn’t feel like going for My Parents Don’t Fucking Get It: Round Two - it was also that his dad wasn’t outside his door as well. He probably wasn’t even sorry, still thought he was right. His mum tried, and was at least willing to put in the effort and listen.

But Dan was in no condition to talk to anyone, so he listened for a few minutes before he heard her walk away.

After what was probably a few hours, Dan’s phone rang, so he finally pulled it from his pocket.

“Yeah?”

“Dan?” Phil breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry, I just thought something bad might’ve happened. Been trying to get a hold of you for hours so my mind just wandered.”

“Kinda did,” Dan said, sitting up and resting his forehead in his free hand.

“What happened?”

Dan was silent for a few moments, not sure if he was even ready to talk about it. But knowing that Phil would have happily sat on the phone with him for as long as he needed in complete silence was made him speak up.

He relayed the conversation to Phil, and, why the hell not, all the emotions that went with it: inadequacy, anger, resentment, sadness, disappointment - his own personal self-deprecating cocktail.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Phil said sadly, and Dan thought he might’ve heard his voice break. “I wish there was something I could say. Something I could do to make it all go away. Wave a magic wand. Get you a mirror that shows you who you really are.”

“Not so sure I’d want to take a look.”

Phil sighed.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re the greatest person I’ve ever met, Dan. You’re smart, like not only intuitively but when you know your stuff you  _really_ know it. You’re creative and ambitious and clever and so, so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Dan wiped tears from his eyes, and he wasn’t sure they were residual from his earlier spell.

“I’m not fishing for compliments,” he mumbled, a bit overwhelmed by the utter adoration in Phil’s voice.

“I know. I’m just stating facts. Like, did you know that pigeons can recognize themselves in mirrors?”

Dan laughed, and he knew Phil was grinning from ear to ear.

“I did not know that, Phil,” Dan said, exasperatedly, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Love you too, Dan.”

Dan stuck his tongue out, and then he realised that Phil couldn’t see him.

x

Dan wound up having a  _very_ long conversation with his parents about his ambitions, his sexuality, his self-esteem, and everything in between. They vowed to be more open-minded about it, and to support Dan no matter what.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to tiptoe around me like I’m made of glass, yeah?” Dan said, glancing at his mum, then dad, and back again.

“I still value your opinions, I just wish you could express them without making me feel like shit.”

“Fair enough,” his dad conceded. “We’re sorry, Dan - we love you, and we always mean well.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dan dismissed them with a wave of his hand.  _Doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck me up a little along the way._

“So, I think we’d at least like to meet Phil before you move in with him,” Mum said cheerily. “Preferably before you go and stay with him for a week.”

“Will you settle for Skype?” Dan said, not particularly fond of the idea of Phil coming to his house to ‘meet the family’, or his parents travelling with him when he went to Phil’s flat in London.

“Deal,” Dad replied.

Dan talked to Phil for several hours after his parents left them alone, in which Phil vowed to help Dan in any way he could.

“Thanks, Phil - that really means a lot to me.”

“That’s okay,” Phil replied lightheartedly. “That’s what best friends do.”

Dan was really beginning to get annoyed with Phil’s ability to make him tear up with offhand statements like that.

“I - I’ve never had a best friend before,” Dan said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Then consider me honoured,” Phil said, making heart with his hands.

“That’s incredibly corny,” Dan laughed. “But I’ll take it.”

x

_February 2013_

Dan didn’t know exactly what he expected of Phil’s flat, but it was definitely less lively than the man who lived there.The walls of the lounge were bare, save for one canvas of whimsical-looking art. About half of the room served as an office, and Dan couldn’t help but admire the camera equipment that had been left in what he assumed was filming position.

“Now that Mark’s moved out, I don’t have to put the tripods away,” Phil said, shrugging and picking up the bag that Dan had dropped by the door when Phil had - rather enthusiastically - hugged him in greeting.

“Thank god you’re not one of those people who apologizes for how messy their spotless flat is.”

Phil smiled. “I may have spruced it up a bit for your arrival. You can’t prove anything.”

To Dan’s surprise, Phil made no comment about the sofa, which Dan assumed would be his bed for the next week; Phil just led the way to his bedroom. When they passed what used to be Mark’s bedroom, he made a passing remark about how it was completely empty and not really worth seeing. He propped open the door of his room, allowing Dan to step in before him.

Dan smiled, because it seemed to fulfill expectations he didn’t know he had. The room was small, but extraordinarily  _Phil_  in that it was littered with random little things Dan guessed viewers had gifted. The walls were decorated with more of the whimsical art, but nothing else in the room matched. There was no unified colour scheme, but it all seemed to fit well together. It was cozy.

“What d’you think?” Phil said shyly, after Dan had, no doubt, been silent for too long.

“I love it. It’s so  _you._ ” Dan replied, sitting down on the bed and continuing to look around.

Phil dropped Dan’s bag at the foot of the bed before flopping down beside him.

“I’m a bit attached to it, but I think I’m ready for something new.”

“I know how you feel.”

x

All of their determination to search for an apartment quickly dissolved in favor of playing video games in their pyjamas. Dan was a firm believer in the fact that how people react to competition reveals their true character, and it turned out that Phil’s true character swore like a sailor and showed absolutely no mercy. (Dan’s true character happened to be a sore loser and an even sorer winner, but that was, of course, irrelevant.)

Phil gnawed at the controller in frustration when Dan beat him, again, and Dan absolutely lost his shit.

“Is that why there are fucking  _bite marks_ on this?” Dan asked, laughing and holding up the controller. Phil only pouted dramatically, folding his arms and leaning across Dan’s lap to bang his head into the armrest of the sofa.

“There, there,” Dan said, patting Phil’s back condescendingly. “Better luck next time.”

“I don’t want to live with you anymore. You’re awful.”

“Almost as awful as you are at Halo?”

“Actually shut up. I’m going to bed,” Phil grumbled, getting up and switching off the console.

“Are you really?” Dan asked, tapping his phone so it would display the time. Nearly three in the morning. “Well. Time flies.”

Phil merely narrowed his eyes and shook his head before retreating to the kitchen.

“Do you want anything?”

“Um, some water would be good,” Dan replied, following Phil.

Phil quickly got each of them a glass of water, and started to head out of the room. Dan was just about to wish Phil goodnight before Phil spoke.

“Aren’t you going to sleep now?” he asked softly. He had stopped walking, as though he expected Dan to follow.

“Yeah,” Dan said, and he did just that. As comfortable as he was in Phil’s flat, he had been there less than a day, so he still felt weird about the spaces he occupied and when.

He and Phil bumped elbows almost continuously as they brushed their teeth and got ready for bed. It quickly turned into a game of playful shoving, from which Phil emerged victorious when Dan had simply stopped pushing back.

“You know, not everything is a contest,” Dan said, his voice muffled by a towel as he wiped his face dry.

“That’s what losers say,” Phil said mischievously, darting from the bathroom. Dan rolled his eyes, gave his hair one last ruffle, and followed suit.

Phil was proudly tucked under the covers on the left side of the bed. Dan rolled his eyes again, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“You’re such a child sometimes.”

“Your mum’s a child.”

“Pretty sure that’s very impossible and very illegal,” Dan said, laughing, but Phil ignored him.

Phil turned down the corner at the other edge of the bed and looked up at Dan expectantly, as though it was only natural for Dan to join him. Dan blinked, his hesitation disappearing almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“Yeah, okay,” Dan said, mostly to himself. He tugged his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor with a pile of Phil’s laundry before climbing into bed and covering himself with the duvet.

“Goodnight, Dan,” Phil said, removing his glasses and switching the lamp off.  

“Night, Phil.”

x

If the next few days were in any way representative of what it would be like to live with Phil, then Dan couldn’t wait to move in. Dan began to feel more at home in Phil’s flat, like it was as much his own space as it was Phil’s. He didn’t feel awkward about not spending every second with Phil, although they did spend most of their time together. They could exist independently but in tandem, and Dan liked the feeling.

Dan had just finished eating a midnight snack when Phil stumbled into the lounge, holding a mound of sheets and a duvet. He plopped the pile onto the floor and looked up at Dan excitedly.

“Look what Mark left behind! Found these in the hall closet.” he said, gesturing to the heap of fabric as though it were a collection of previously unearthed treasure.

“Um, a nest for pillow birds?”

“You’re close,” Phil said, pushing the coffee table towards the wall. “It’s going to be our fort.”

Dan stared at Phil, half-amused, half-confused, but entirely endeared. Phil was demanding that they, two grown men who were meant to be looking for apartments, make a blanket fort. And Dan would be damned if he didn’t leap at the chance.

They wound up arguing for twenty minutes about how to arrange pillows for optimal structural integrity, before concluding that the couch cushions should be placed on the sides.

“Okay, that’s it then,” Phil said, standing beside Dan and appraising their creation, which was barely long enough to accommodate them lying down, and barely tall enough for them to be propped up on their elbows.

“We seem to be under the impression that we’re the appropriate age to do this,” Dan replied, scoffing. He scanned the room, wondering if they could utilize the furniture to make a bigger hideaway. Phil seemed to catch his train of thought, and Dan could see the lightbulb go off in Phil’s head when he sprang into action.

They used the backs of the sofa and armchairs as the sides of their fort, draping the sheets over them and using cushions and pillows as a floor.

“Now that we’ve completely rearranged my lounge to create something arguably less comfortable but much cooler than my bed, what would you like to do?” Phil asked when they had settled inside.

“We could watch a film or something. Preferably one of those random things you told me you were in, like Faintheart or The Weakest Link.”

Phil laughed, shaking his head.

“I only have the episode of The Weakest Link on VHS, and I don’t have a video player. Also I’m in Faintheart for maybe five seconds.”

“Fine,” Dan huffed. “What do you want to watch then?”

Phil pondered that for a moment before climbing out of the fort. Dan heard him shuffle around a minute before he returned, laptop, charger, and the DVD of Wall-E in hand.

“I haven’t seen this in ages,” Dan said, flipping the case over in his hand.

“It’s my favourite Pixar film.”

“Really? I mean it’s cute, but it’s no Toy Story.”

“Shush,” Phil told him when the disc whirred to life inside the computer.

The previews began playing, and Phil had flopped down beside Dan, lying on his stomach and resting his head on a pillow. Phil seemed content to watch them, so Dan just copied his body language and settled in.

Despite the fact that Dan hated when people talked during films, he was surprised that Phil didn’t speak at all. Wasn’t there some kind of social convention that required you to acknowledge the fact that you were watching a film with someone else, at least a little? They laughed and awww-ed at all the appropriate moments, but other than that, no words were exchanged until about an hour in.

Wall-E and Eve were ‘dancing’ around the ship - Eve gliding gracefully through space and Wall-E using a fire extinguisher to push himself along. Two people on the ship, John and Mary, had just noticed them from the window.

“That’ll be us in ten years,” Dan said jokingly. “You can bet anything I’d happily sit in a hoverchair with a computer screen in front of it all the time in exchange for health and bone mass.”

Phil laughed, his eyes still on the screen.

“I feel like we’re more like Wall-E and Eve. I’m adorable and loveable, and you’re ice cold and violent,” Phil teased.

“Mostly because I have to put up with your shit.”

Phil nudged Dan in the ribs with his elbow in response, and they fell into comfortable silence until the last ten minutes of the film.

“This part is too sad,” Phil said, when Wall-E was crushed by the door. Dan nodded.

“Yeah, but it’s a Disney film. You know it’s going to end happily,” he replied.

“It’s also a  _Pixar_ film, meaning it has to rip your heart out at some point.”

“That’s what good storytelling does, Phil. What good is a story if it doesn’t make you feel anything?”

“That’s true,” Phil conceded, and they fell into silence once more.

By the end, they were both sniffling, and Phil looked over at Dan, laughing.

“What? I’ve got some good storytelling in my eye,” Dan said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“And I’ve just been yawning,” Phil replied, doing just that, as if on cue.

_“Riiiight._ Sure you have.”

“I have been! I’m tired.”

“It’s only like,” Dan checked his phone, “Two am.”

“Dan, we need to rest up. We have a long day of filming tomorrow.”

Dan groaned dramatically, but Phil had no sympathy.

“We’ve somehow managed to burn half of your stay here on films and video games and fort-building. We have to get  _something_ done while you’re here.”

“The fort wasn’t my idea,” Dan replied, pushing himself up off his stomach and sitting with his arms and legs crossed.

“I’ll give you that,” Phil said. “But you know you love it.”

“Yeah, it’s a great place for doing grown-up things like watching children’s movies and bickering.”

Phil stuck out his tongue at Dan, who rolled his eyes.

“Beats the hell out of  _actual_ grown-up things, doesn’t it?” Phil said. “Because we do have to do those eventually. The whole purpose of this trip was for us to look for apartments and film together.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dan replied. Admittedly, he had forgotten that Phil was right - the purpose of his stay seemed to take a back seat to all the fun they had been having.

“Serious business starts tomorrow, then,” Dan concluded.

Phil nodded in agreement, and they went to bed.

Normally, Dan would get a bit nervous about taking on adult responsibilities like flat-hunting. He’d toss and turn all night if he knew he had a big task to take on the next day. But with Phil, it didn’t seem so daunting, because he didn’t have to do it alone.   

The next day, they settled inside their fort to do the research.

“It can be our temporary home while we look for a new one,” Phil had said.

By dinner, they had made a list of five potential flats - one of which was gone by the time they had inquired about it. Places in London went off the market quickly, so if they found a place that really suited their needs, they had to decide fast. They planned to see the flats in the next few days, before Dan went back to Wokingham.

The thought of going back to his parents’ house - it felt weird to call it ‘home’ - wasn’t exactly appealing to Dan, but he pushed the thought from his mind as he plopped onto Phil’s bed, sharpie in hand.

Phil giggled as Dan applied whiskers to his face, claiming that it was the sharpie fumes that were making him giggly, but Dan knew better.

x

When Dan woke up, everything was fine. He felt content and warm. Then he remembered where and when he was, and the fantasy crumbled.

He dreamt that he and Emily were still together. That was it, really - that was the only part of the dream that seeped into his consciousness as he woke. He was happy. She loved him.

And then he remembered he was at Phil’s house, and that last statement wasn’t true anymore.

He turned over, discarding the extra pillow onto the floor as he faced Phil. Phil was still sleeping, curled in on himself, his shoulders moving up and down with his slow breaths. Dan sighed, not wanting to wake Phil, but not particularly wanting to be left to his own thoughts.

Dan grabbed his phone off of the bedside table, and nearly dropped his phone on his face when he saw who he had a text from.

_Emily - 11:56am_

_Hey Dan! I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for coffee? I saw you were in London and it’s been a while._

Dan sat straight up, staring at the screen, as though the words would change if he read them enough times. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t.

Dan got up and paced around Phil’s bedroom, arms crossed over his chest.

_Where the fuck was she in June? Did she completely forget their pact? Had they even made it in the first place? Did he make that up? How the fuck is he supposed to react to this?_

Phil stirred, stretching out his arms and rolling over to face where Dan was stood.

“Hey, you,” Phil said, rubbing his eyes and throwing an arm out to grab his glasses off of the bedside table. He placed the frames on his face clumsily, still lying down.

“Guess who I just got a text from?” Dan said acidly, not even bothering to wait for a response. “Emily.”

Phil sat up, his eyes wide.  

“What did she say?”

“She saw I was in London and wants to get coffee. Three years and one missed all-or-nothing moment later and she  _wants to get coffee._ ”

“Wow,” was all Phil said in reply, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. “So she didn’t say anything about -”

“Nope,” Dan cut him off. “Not a word.”

“Wow,” he repeated, his gaze following Dan as he paced across the room.

“I dunno whether to be angry or frustrated or confused or to not feel anything at all.” Dan sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed and burying his face in his hands. Phil shifted around, scooting to Dan’s side and tossing an arm around his waist.

“Whatever you’re feeling - that’s okay. You’ve got every right to feel mixed up about it.”

Dan dropped his head onto Phil’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I just - it’s the same shit over again, you know? How many times do I have to choose to patch things up with her to have her shut me down again? I don’t even know if it’s worth the effort to even just go and make awkward small talk for forty-five minutes and then part ways. Unless this is her way of making up for not showing up in California. Or maybe she needs fashion advice. I just don’t know anymore.”

Phil rested his cheek against Dan’s hair.

“I dunno why she’s asked so randomly, but she has a reason. I guess the only way to know what it is is to go. Like you said: worst-case scenario is you make awkward conversation for a while before you suddenly declare that you forgot to, uh, wash your goose or something.”

Dan chuckled, and Phil gave his side a little squeeze.

“That’s not the worst-case scenario, honestly. The worst case would be that she has suddenly decided to go through with our pact and that she wants to be with me.”

“And how would you react if she said that?” Phil asked softly.

“I’d tell her to fuck off,” Dan said flippantly. “She missed her chance and it’s taken me way too long to move on as it is.”

“Proud of you,” Phil replied. “I can always go with you for moral support. Lurk in a nearby shop or sit in the corner reading a newspaper and wearing a fake mustache.”

Dan sat up so he could give Phil a half-amused and half-judging look, but Phil just laughed, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Just an offer,” Phil said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Dan stood up, grabbed a t-shirt off the floor, smelled it and decided it was fine, and then put it on.

“She’s definitely not coming to you for fashion advice,” Phil teased.

“On a day like today, the ‘it smells clean’ approach works for me,” Dan replied, turning round to face the mirror and ruffling his hair. “This is your shirt, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Not only have you stolen half of my bed, my food, my hospitality, and some of my toothpaste, but now you’re stealing my clothes. I should start having you pay rent.”

“That’s the plan,” Dan said, smirking at Phil, who smiled back. “Suppose I should actually answer that text then.”

x

Dan didn’t want to admit to himself how nervous he was. Not only was he uncertain about Emily’s intentions, but it had been  _years_ since they had seen each other. Dan could safely say he was a different person, and the same probably applied to her, but to what extent?

Dan drummed his fingers against his shaking knee, much too anxious to sit still for the five minutes he would be on the train. Five minutes was plenty of time for his mind to race ahead at full speed, contemplating all of the what-ifs that had lied dormant for months. There were only a few possible outcomes of this situation, and the most favorable one, if he was honest with himself, was that they would give up all pretense and face the reality that they weren’t any shadow of what they used to be. And that hurt more than Dan cared to admit.

It genuinely scared him to think that the perception he had of his first love might change completely. After leaving him out to dry in June, Emily wasn’t exactly Dan’s favourite person. But he thought he had come to terms with being rejected - that maybe they just weren’t right for each other and she figured it out sooner than he had.

But he had come to associate their relationship with the happiest time in his life. He had never been a ray of sunshine as a teenager, but he had been content. He felt like he had it all: a girlfriend, a small but loyal group of friends, decent grades in school, a seemingly bright but distant future in which he could do something worthwhile.

Then it came time for uni, and literally all of that was about to change. He had wanted more than ever to cling to Emily, because maybe  _she_ would be the one thing in his life that he could depend on. But then the rug was pulled out from underneath him, and his life sped forward into the Great and Terrible Unknown in which he was single and mostly friendless in a completely new place, and hated what he was studying almost as much as he hated himself.

All of that compounded to create someone who Dan never wanted to be again: borderline depressed, self-conscious, overwhelmed, and so uncomfortable in his own skin he wondered how he even kept it on.

And Emily had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

His palms felt slick, and he wiped them on his jeans, biting his lip and waiting for the announcement of his stop. His stomach churned, and his knees refused to stay still. Dan sucked in a breath through his nose, trying to will his body out of fight-or-flight mode. His nerves seemed to sense the threat before his mind could process just why he was so terrified: he was scared of what seeing Emily would do to the perfect little fantasy that was his memory of being with her. After clinging to it so tightly for years, to the point where he had spent most of his time imagining they were still together, he wasn’t quite ready for the tangible shattering of that illusion.

But he had no time to contemplate it further, because it was his time to get off the train.

Dan forced himself to stand up straight as he trudged down the road to the Starbucks, where he knew Emily would be waiting for him. He was barely on time for things, and she was always early.

The door gave a small  _ding_ as he entered, and his eyes darted around the cafe. Emily was sat at a table to his left, sipping from a mug and looking at her phone. She looked almost the same as Dan remembered. Sure, he had seen pictures of her on Facebook with her new short haircut, but that was quite different. At least, he thought it would be.

“Dan!” she said, having looked up from her phone and probably caught him staring. She stood up, opening her arms for a hug.

“Hey, Em,” he replied, giving her a quick squeeze. The old nickname seemed to fall out of his mouth of its own accord, but she seemed unfazed.

“How are things?” she said, stepping out of the hug and looking up at Dan. He knew he had grown at least a little since the last time he saw her, but he didn’t remember her being  _that_  short.

“Things are good.”

“Right,” she continued after a moment of silence. “Why don’t you go get a drink and we’ll catch up?”

“Sure, yeah.” Dan queued behind a man who, judging by his current conversation with the barista, had never been to a Starbucks before. To busy his hands, Dan took out his phone and texted Phil.

_Been here for about a minute and it’s already awkward. Send help._

Dan pretended to ponder the menu while he waited for a reply. It was entirely unnecessary; he always ordered a caramel macchiato, no matter the weather. He remembered excitedly texting Phil when he discovered that blended caramel macchiatos were a thing, because the hot ones were just not practical year-round. It had been a blistering, highly caffeinated summer.

_:o really? I’ll send in the rescue squad._

_You mean you awkwardly showing up and telling me we have to go rescue a bird from a tree or something?_

_Don’t be silly. You’re afraid of trees._

_…this is true. The only flaw in the plan._

The man in front of him had finally moved along, so Dan placed his order and ambled to the other end of the counter to wait for his drink. He and Phil exchanged ideas of possible rescue schemes, and Dan concluded that the only socially acceptable way to excuse himself from the situation was to have Liam Neeson capture him.

“Caramel macchiato for Dan?” the barista called, and Dan thanked her before reluctantly plopping into his seat across from Emily.

“So,” she began, “care to expand on your ‘things are good’ statement?”

“Things are  _very_ good,” he said, placing his phone on the table and stirring his coffee.

“Good to hear,” she said, nodding.

“What have you been up to?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from himself. He knew she was fishing for information - some kind of indication that he had been okay and happy since the last time they  _really_ talked. He didn’t want to have to correct her.

Emily went on about university for a while, gushing about how much she loved it and all the new friends she had made. Dan knew her well enough to know she wasn’t lying or exaggerating just to make the conversation more pleasant - her smiles reached her eyes and she spoke animatedly, nearly knocking over her coffee several times with her hand gestures.

And, okay, maybe Dan was a little bitter that she had been having a grand time at uni, and that was why he allowed himself to zone out. But, in his defense, it was mostly just Emily; once she got started, she could talk for a  _long_ time with minimal encouragement. It was inevitable that Dan would lose interest and stop listening, so he didn’t guilt himself out of it until she had apparently finished a story.

“Honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered to me either way,” she said flippantly.

“Uh, yeah,” Dan replied, nodding, hoping that that would feign enough interest to satisfy her.

“But enough about me - really, what’s new in Dan Land?” she said, leaning forward and propping her chin up on her hand.

That was the thing about Emily; she really did care about other people, but she generally cared about herself a lot more. She wasn’t as in tune with other people’s emotions as Dan was. Maybe she lacked empathetic ability, maybe she just couldn’t be bothered. Regardless, Dan knew he needed to be careful about how he went about talking to her if he wanted to paint the sunniest possible picture of his life without her.

“Um, I’ll be moving to London soon,” he said.

“Good luck. The rent here is absolutely mental. I didn’t even get to pick which one of my fingers they cut off as payment,” she said, holding up her left hand with one of her fingers bent out of sight. Dan blinked, as though something was off about her hand  _besides_ the pretend-missing digit. He shook his head and continued.

“Yeah, my friend and I have been looking at some flats. They’re all so expensive and we’re incredibly broke, so this should be fun.”

Emily nodded.

“Well, you might have to compromise on a few things. Don’t turn your nose up at a cheap place with a nice view of a brick wall. You’ll learn to love and cherish that brick wall,” she said, and Dan laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind, yeah.”

“Is it your friend Phil that you’re moving in with?”

Dan raised his eyebrows.

“How do you know Phil?”

“Your Facebook, Dan. Most of your recent pictures are with him.”

“Been stalking me, eh?”

“I needed to make sure I could recognize you when we met up today. For all I know, you got a face transplant and bleached your hair blonde.”

“Or I’m not Dan at all, and I’m just a stranger who got a Dan Howell face transplant and dyed my hair brown.”

“You’re a pretty convincing imposter, then.” She sat back in her seat, crossing her arms and giving him a once-over. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”

“I dunno about that,” Dan said, before he could stop himself.

“Yeah? ‘S that so?”

“Yeah.”

Emily continued to stare at him, and he averted his gaze. He tapped his phone, and his lock screen displayed a few unread messages from Phil. Since the conversation had died down, he figured it wasn’t horribly rude to answer them.

She was still looking at him, eyebrows raised, appraising, when he looked up.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said, looking smug as fuck.

Dan rolled his eyes. He hated people thinking they had him all figured out. Like they knew everything there was to know about him. Like they could waltz back into his life and pretend that little had changed.

“Okay, listen. I really don’t want to carry on pretending like we’re having cozy catch-up time, so I’m just gonna come out with it: I went to California.”

Emily’s eyes lit up, as though she were about to ask about his apparently wonderful holiday to America, when the realization made her face fall.

“You - you went?”

“Yeah, and you didn’t.”

“Oh.” Her gaze fell to the table, and she blinked several times before looking at Dan again.

“Dan, I had no idea you would actually -” she broke off.

Dan knew his emotions were written all over his face, but he didn’t try to hide them. He had had enough small talk - it was about time she faced what he had been dealing with for years. He felt betrayed. Ashamed. Embarassed. Rejected.

“So why didn’t you just break up with me then? Why propose a grand reunion thing that you never had any intention of seeing through?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘never’,” she sniffed, still refusing to hold eye contact. “I did think it was a good idea at the time. But… three years is a long time. My perspective on it, on life, on a lot of things, had changed so much that I didn’t consider that you…”

“Go on,” Dan pushed. He knew he was being harsh. But one small part of him felt just vengeful enough to make her feel guilty. She  _should_ feel responsible for Dan’s suffering, shouldn’t she?

“I didn’t think you’d go after all this time, okay? We talked so little and were able to sever close ties so easily… I figured that spoke for itself.”

“Could’ve spared me a trip, then,” Dan muttered, knowing full well he didn’t mean it. He met Phil on that trip, and he wouldn’t take it back given a hundred chances. “I knew you wouldn’t think I was worth the effort.”

“Hey,” she demanded, sitting up and letting her previously head-supporting arm fall to the table. “Don’t you fucking dare. You’re not projecting your self-esteem issues onto me, Dan Howell. No, sir.”

“That’s fucking uncalled for. And blatantly wrong. Me hating myself is independent of your selfish version of love, thank you very much.”

“I did love you.”

“Not enough. You flipped a switch when it started being inconvenient for you. You really can’t understand why that  _might_ still upset me?”  

“I’m sorry you haven’t moved on,” she said, crossing her arms. “We were children. I’m an adult now.”

“Right. An adult who expected to meet up with an ex whose heart she ripped out and have a pleasant Starbucks visit? And you call  _me_ naive.”

Dan stared at her, as though he were seeing her for the first time. It felt inexplicably strange to see Emily as she  _really_  was - just a human being with strengths that he no longer idolised and weaknesses he wasn’t blinded to. She was no longer a girl he wanted to spend his life with, or the first girl he ever loved or made love to, or an ever-present hope. She was just a girl - a woman, even, that he had once had a connection to. Now, she was just a person.

“Shut it, Howell. The whole reason I asked you to come here is because I wanted to tell you about this.” Emily held up her left hand to display a ring on her fourth finger. That was why he thought it looked different - she had once worn a very similar ring on her middle finger.  

“You’re engaged?” Dan asked, his voice flat. “And you felt the need to tell me this, because…?”

“Well, don’t be too happy for me,” she snapped. “I figured I at least owed it to you to tell you in person.”

Dan gaped at her.

“For what? To physically  _show_ me that you’re no longer available to receive my unrequited affection? To close this bullshit up in a way that is definitely  _not_  the way we agreed upon years ago? Clearly you thought I’d care more than just ‘being happy for you’. Which is good, really. I’m glad one of us was able to move on quickly and healthily.”

“I’d love nothing more than for you to move on, Dan.”

“Good, glad we’re on the same page, then,” he stood up, planning to make a grand, cinematic storm-off, when she touched his arm.

“I really am sorry, Dan. I didn’t realize how much pain I caused you. This isn’t how I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Yeah, well, you missed your chance to do it properly, didn’t you?” Dan said. “Take care, Em. I really am happy for you.”

Dan turned round on his heels and exited the shop, immediately pulling out his phone and opening his texts and typing one to Phil.

_Pls order Chinese._

_That bad, huh?_

_Worse._

x

Phil wasn’t there when Dan returned to his flat, which was kind of a problem, because Dan didn’t have a key. Phil must have gone out to get takeaway like Dan asked, and hadn’t returned yet. Dan sighed, pressing his back to the wall beside the front door and sliding to the floor.

_Should have gotten it myself. Now I’m stuck outside your flat,_ Dan texted Phil.

_My neighbour has an extra key, I can ring her and tell her you’re coming for it._

_That’s okay. I’ll just wait._

_Be back soon!_

Dan sighed again, burying his face in his hands. He willed himself not to cry until he was safely inside Phil’s flat, although it wouldn’t make  _that_  much of a difference; if a stranger walked by and saw him sitting like that, they would probably assume he was crying anyway.

_Stop that,_ he berated himself.  _What you want to do is more important than how you’re perceived. If you wanna cry, fucking cry._

The tears would not come, though, so he just hugged his knees to his chest and waited until Phil returned about ten minutes later.

“Hey, you,” Phil said softly, kneeling in front of Dan and brushing his hair away from his forehead.

“Thanks for getting me food,” Dan said in lieu of a greeting.

“Yeah, of course,” Phil said. “Been craving Chinese anyway. Let’s feast.” Phil stood up and offered Dan his hand. Dan clumsily heaved himself to his feet with Phil’s help, and they went inside.

Dan could see Phil throwing him concerned, searching glances, but Dan said nothing. It was a testament to how well Phil knew him, really; he knew Dan would speak up when he was ready to do so. But that didn’t keep him from sitting a bit closer to Dan on the sofa, which, thankfully, did not require dismantling their fort. They were still able to watch FMA while they ate. Phil seemed to think nothing of the fact that the fort had become a permanent fixture in his flat, so Dan didn’t question it.

When they both had finished, Dan sighed once more, and that was all Phil needed to know that he was ready to talk.

“Emily’s engaged.”

Phil raised his eyebrows, encouraging Dan to continue, and turned off the TV.

“She wanted to tell me she’s engaged. Fucking swell, isn’t it? So incredibly happy that she decided that that bit of information was best communicated through an in-person interaction, when we’ve barely spoken in years, as opposed to, I dunno, letting me find out on Facebook like everyone else. So happy that she felt that I would care more than her average acquaintance. That’s basically what we are now, aren’t we? Fucking strangers. I was in love with her for like, four or five years, and now we’re strangers. Just like that. So yeah. So fucking happy for her.”

Phil frowned.

“I’m sorry, Dan. That was really awful of her. Clearly she didn’t understand your feelings as well as she thought she did.”

“Clearly. I’m just.” Dan sighed again, not sure how to continue. Then he remembered that Phil would be interested and empathetic towards whatever word vomit came out, so he just continued.

“How fucking pathetic is it that I  _kept myself_ in love with her for years after we had broken up? I constantly thought about us still being a couple. What I’d say if she rang me. What she’d say if she were with me at any given moment. The only version of myself I wanted to be was the one who was with her. If I wasn’t the guy who loved Emily, then who was I, you know? Who am I if I’m not that guy anymore?”

“You,” Phil said, scooting a bit closer and tossing an arm around him, “are Dan Howell. That means an awful lot. That’s really important.”

“Maybe you think so.”

“I do. I really do.”

“That doesn’t make it true.”

Phil turned to face Dan, bringing his legs up onto the cushion and crossing them. He planted his hands firmly on Dan’s shoulders and gave him a small shake.

“Dan, you  _are_ important. You’re important to me. You’re important to your family and friends. You’re important to thousands of people who love what you create. But, most importantly, I wish you saw yourself as just as important as people think you are.” Phil’s brows knitted together.

“Wait. That was confusing.”

Dan smirked. “Care to give it another go?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to convince you of your own value. It’s like trying to tell the sun how bright it is. All it can see is the other stars.”

“The sun doesn’t have eyes nor a sense of vision.”

“Are you trying to make me revoke this whole speech on the grounds that you’re annoying?”

“Maybe.”

“Well it won’t work. Point is - you are a human being with a life. Implicitly, you have value. But you have so much more than that. Other people can see that,  but I wish you didn’t rely on that fact to make you see it yourself.”

Dan blinked, processing, and Phil gave an embarrassed laugh.

“How was that?”

“Better. Eight out of ten.”

“Thank goodness,” he said, releasing Dan’s shoulders. “I’m not as good with words as you are.”

Dan smiled.

“Thank you, Phil. It really means a lot to me that you take care of me all the time. Sometimes I feel like I’m a burden.”

“You’re not. You can lay on me anytime.” Phil paused, his cheeks growing red, his gaze dropping to his lap. “Uh, I meant lean.”

“Too bad,” Dan said, maneuvering himself so that his head rested in Phil’s lap. The backs of his knees hooked over the armrest of the sofa, his feet dangling well off the edge.

“There we go,” he said, looking up at Phil with a shit-eating grin. Phil’s face was upside-down from his perspective.

“I meant metaphorically. I’m your best friend, not your personal pillow.”

“Same thing, really.”

“Fine,” Phil said, fixing a stray bit of Dan’s fringe that had gone awry. “Did you still wanna talk about Emily? I kind of rudely interrupted with my inspirational speech there.”

“Yeah, you’re incredibly rude,” Dan said with mock offense. “I dunno. I guess I’m just - sad, more than anything. Endings are sad. Especially when I spent so much time hoping it wouldn’t end. I guess I can agree with her there - that wasn’t how I would have wanted it to end either.”

“Yeah,” Phil said, and his hands had landed on Dan’s shoulders again. “But endings invite something new to begin.”

“I guess,” Dan said, looking up at Phil. “What do you suppose is the next chapter, then?”

“Us getting an apartment could be a new start for you.”

“Yeah. Kind of already feels like we have one already, though. I feel like I’ve been here for weeks.”

“It always feels longer than it is when you’re being held captive,” Phil said, giving Dan’s shoulders a pseudo-threatening squeeze. Dan laughed.

A pensive silence fell over them for a minute or so before Phil broke it.

“Well, if you’re alright, I was going to take a shower.”

“By all means,” Dan said, sitting up and nearly knocking Phil in the chin with his head. Phil got up and left the room, so Dan just flopped back onto the couch, linking his hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.

The full weight of what had happened, of what he had lost and what he had been set free of, hit him like a tonne of bricks. He couldn’t help but feel like he had _,_ in fact, suffered a personal loss. Emily wasn’t the girl he loved, or the girl who loved him, and maybe he could be okay with that. In fact, it was liberating to not feel tethered by her, to know that he had given their relationship his best shot and he was better off without that pressure. But, he still felt the crushing of the plans he had once made, the tarnishing of his memory of her, the foolishness at having believed any of it could have held up. For the first time, he felt like it was over, and that he’d be okay eventually - but not yet. Not at that moment.

So he finally allowed himself to cry, folded in on himself on Phil’s sofa, until he was properly gasping for breath. Phil must have heard Dan after he finished his shower, and rushed to check on him. Dan smiled weakly.

“Nothing here to fix. Just need some time,” Dan said, wiping his eyes. Phil nodded, disappeared from the room, and returned moments later with a box of tissues. Dan murmured his thanks, and Phil retreated to his bedroom.

Dan stayed in the lounge for what seemed like hours, listening to Phil click away at his laptop, probably editing ‘phil is not on fire 2’, as they had decided to call it. It seemed like ages ago that they had filmed it, even though it had only been the previous day.

Similarly, Dan felt like he had known Phil his whole life, even though it had been less than a year. They just clicked. Phil made him feel  _better_  in nearly every way.

But if there was one thing Dan had learned, it was that placing his self worth in the hands of something as fragile as another human being never turned out well. There was nothing beautiful or touching about needing someone else to make him feel like he deserved to take up space. He didn’t want to feel incomplete or broken. He just wanted to be Dan, whatever that meant.

And he had a feeling Phil could help him figure it out.

Dan made his way into Phil’s room, flopped onto Phil’s bed, and watched him edit for a while. Dan asked a few questions along the way, but mostly just observed, wondering how long it would take him to master the skill like Phil had.

When it neared the wee hours of the morning, Phil declared that they could finish it up the next day, and they got ready for bed in silence.

Dan rubbed his puffy eyes while Phil climbed into bed beside him. Phil exchanged a glance with Dan, as if to say  _you alright?_ and the corners of Dan’s mouth quirked up a bit.

Phil nodded in response, and turned off the light. They fell asleep facing each other, breathing in sync.

x

Dan woke up sniffling, his eyes stinging with moisture. He recalled crying in his dream, but hell if he could remember what it was about. Probably Emily - but he didn’t want to try hard enough to retrieve the memory.

Lazily, he opened his eyes and shifted around just a bit. Phil’s room was still quite dim, so he blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness, only to be greeted with Phil’s hair a few centimetres from his chin. Phil’s head would have been tucked into the crook of Dan’s neck if he were just a bit closer.

Dan sat up a little, looking for the source of the weight on his side, which was Phil’s arm slung over his hip. Their legs fit together like puzzle pieces, as Phil’s thighs were pressed to Dan’s calves.

Dan lied back down, idly watching Phil’s shoulders rise and fall. He wondered if everyone looked younger when they slept - not that Phil looked particularly old, or even that much other than Dan. It was just, Dan decided, that people looked younger when completely wiped of their defences. He was seeing Phil at his most vulnerable, just as Phil had apparently seen him cry in his sleep and decide to comfort him. As though sleeping facing each other weren’t intimate enough, Phil had felt comfortable taking it a step further. And Dan was content to meet him halfway.

Dan wrapped the arm he wasn’t laying on around Phil’s shoulder, pulling him closer so that their bodies were completely pressed together. Phil stirred just a little, settling onto Dan’s chest, but didn’t wake up.  

Phil was warm, which was probably why the duvet had been thrown off the bed at some point. Between their shared body heat, there was no need for it.

Dan sighed, appreciating the feeling of being so close to the softness of Phil’s body. He hadn’t been that physically close to Phil since New York - but even then, it hadn’t been like this.

_I could get used to this,_ Dan thought as his eyelids drooped closed once more.

It was significantly brighter when Dan opened his eyes again, and he could feel Phil waking up. Dan feigned sleep for a minute or so while Phil stirred.

“Daaaaan,” Phil said, his voice quiet and heavy with drowsiness. He planted his hand on Dan’s hip and shook him gently.

Dan hummed in answer, rolling onto his back.

“We have to get up and look at flats,” Phil said, although he didn’t sound entirely convinced that that was the best thing they could be doing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dan said, letting out an  _oof_ as Phil practically flopped onto his chest to reach his glasses and phone on the bedside table.

“How do you wake up so quickly?” Dan whined, a bit disappointed that Phil ended their cuddle session.

“I don’t,” Phil said, sitting up and yawning. “I simply muddle through the time period between gaining consciousness and acquiring coffee.”

Dan shook his head, burying his face in his hands.

“I do feel quite rested, though,” Phil said, and Dan knew he was stretching from how high pitched his voice suddenly was.

“Yeah, same,” Dan said, dragging his hands across his face and reluctantly propping himself up on his elbows.

“You make a nice pillow,” Phil said nonchalantly, looking up from his phone for a moment to smile at Dan. Dan grinned back, glad that Phil shared his views on friend-cuddling. It had been rather nice.

“You make a great space heater.”

x

Dan was almost relieved when two of their remaining four flat options were suddenly removed - he was no good at making major decisions quickly anyway. In the end, the selling point of the flat they wound up renting was the piano; the previous renter had been too lazy to remove it from one of the bedrooms. Dan needed only give Phil a pleading look, and the flat was theirs.

In the meantime before they could move in, however, Dan had to go back to Wokingham. He had already stayed two days longer than he had said he would, and his mum had started sending him nagging texts inquiring about his return. And then there was the obvious reason that he needed to collect his things.

It felt odd being back at his parents’ house: sleeping in an empty bed, having most of his meals cooked and chores done for him, seeing his parents give him sad looks when they thought he wasn’t paying attention because they were going to miss him - and they were still worried about him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t miss his family or had a particular desire to do housework. He was just so  _ready_ to be out of the house and independent, doing something he loved, rather than following the same old mundane routine. He finally had direction, and he was going to fly towards it at full speed.

And, of course, there was the heavy yet empty feeling of missing Phil, which he could only describe as homesickness. He felt more at home with Phil than he had anywhere else in years, and his desire to go to his new home only fueled his disdain for his childhood home.

He kept the negativity at bay, though, with regular Skype sessions with Phil and the therapeutic effects of packing up his things. He could feel his new start approaching, and he couldn’t wait to get to it.

Moving Dan into the new flat was a family affair, for both his own family and Phil’s. They all seemed to get along, which Dan wasn’t necessarily expecting, but he wasn’t going to question it.

When the chaos of the move had finally died down, and it was time for their families to leave, Dan’s mum took him into her arms and squeezed him tightly.

“My Baby Bear’s all grown up,” she cooed, tightening her arms around his middle. “I’m so proud of you, Dan. I know you’re going to be so, so happy here.”

She pulled her face away from his chest, her eyes glistening. That last statement hit Dan hard, because she finally understood that maybe he wasn’t entirely happy, but now he could be on his way. She accepted him as he was and hoped for better, purely out of love and support, and that was all Dan could ask for.

“Thanks, Mum. I love you,” he said, and she buried her face in his chest once more.

“I love you too, honey.”

Dan gave her one final squeeze before turning to his dad, who smiled.

“What she said,” he said in an attempt at nonchalance, but Dan could see tears brimming in his eyes as well. “I know you’re going to do great things, Dan. And - I - we accept you no matter what. We just want you to be happy.”

He looked like he struggled to find the right words, but Dan appreciated the sentiment more than anything. If his dad was rendered ineloquent, then Dan knew the weight of the moment wasn’t lost on him. Dan smiled, blinking back tears, and hugged his dad, who squeezed him back even tighter.

Goodbyes seemed to last for a full day as Phil’s family took their leave, and then Dan and Phil were finally alone.

Dan sighed, slumping down on the sofa beside Phil.

“I think I’ll sleep for a week, thanks,” Dan groaned, flopping his head onto Phil’s shoulder.

“Hate to break it to you, Dan, but we have no other furniture on which to do that at the moment.”

“You’re such a buzzkill.”

It was silent for a few moments before Phil piped in once again, his voice much cheerier.

“Fort time?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

_March 2013_

Dan had never really agreed with ‘settling down’ as a concept. He hoped that he would never ‘settle’ for anything at any point in his life - that he would always keep pushing forward and trying new things, while, at the same time, being satisfied with the constants. Therefore, he disagreed on principle with the idea that he was now ‘settled down’, at least for the moment, with Phil in London.

Indeed, there was nothing sedentary or standstill about their new life. Between trying to furnish their flat, working independently and cooperatively on their channels, still getting used to living together and getting to know each other, and overall just adjusting to all the newness, it was a work-in-progress. Which is why they nearly turned down an offer to work with the BBC for a weird special.

“An audio-visual mashup of epic proportions, combining radio and internet!” The BBC producer, Victoria, declared.

Phil had ran to Dan’s room as soon as she said who she was, and put the phone on speaker. Her voice boomed through their flat as she pitched the idea of them creating a Radio 1 Special Broadcast - or whatever she had called it. Dan and Phil just stared at each other, completely shellshocked.

“And you want us to host it?” Dan said, still not sure he understood.

“Of course! We think you two are the perfect people to pioneer this industry - the internet, that is - being integrated into mainstream media.”

For a moment, they were completely silent. With everything else that was going on with them, it seemed like an inopportune moment. But they couldn’t pass it up. What was one more new thing to add to their plates, anyway? It could be fun.

They had this conversation with their eyes, and then Phil spoke on behalf of both of them.

“We’d love to.”

“Excellent! We will be in touch about the details, but of course we wanted to give you plenty of time to prepare and plan and such. What’s the best way to contact you?”

Dan sat in quiet awe as Phil explained that she had been the first and only person to call their flat, and that email would probably be best. They thanked her profusely for the offer, and Phil hung up the phone.

“…That just happened,” Phil said, flopping onto Dan’s bed.

“That fucking happened.”

x

Dan knew his career as a Professional Internet Hobo was right for him when, upon solidifying their plans with the BBC, his first instinct was to tweet about it.

_@danisnotonfire: EXCITING NEWS! @AmazingPhil and I are doing a special with_ [ _@BBCR1_ ](https://twitter.com/BBCR1) _! it’ll be a 2hr mess of music and video and Dan and Phil fun (_ _ﾉ◕ヮ◕_ _)_ _ﾉ_ _*:_ _･ﾟ✧_

“How long did it take you to get that under character limit?” Phil asked, peeking at Dan over his glasses.

“Shut up. I quadruple-checked it for typos, at least.”

“But you didn’t say when it’s happening or what time.”

“…You hype it up  _and_ give all the info in a single tweet, then.”

Not a minute later, Phil’s tweet sent a notification to his phone, and Dan crossed his arms and sunk lower into his sofa crease in defeat.

They both silently scrolled through the @replies, most of which were excited. There were a few naysayers, claiming they had ‘sold out to the man’, but they both rolled their eyes at that. It was one special. If, after it was over, they enjoyed it enough and thought it contributed to their content canon meaningfully, then maybe they’d consider doing it again. But the BBC had offered a one-time deal for something they hoped would be cool and new for all involved, so Dan and Phil could find no fault in that.

What stuck out to Dan, for seemingly no apparent reason, was one reply in particular.

_@sohmasyukis: @danisnotonfire @AmazingPhil is it your wedding?_

Dan saw those kinds of comments all the time, on every single social media platform he was present on - and even the ones he wasn’t. People shipped them. That wasn’t news to anyone.

It had been a bit weird at first, especially since there had been a time when Dan thought they were a couple; but Dan had spent far too much time on the internet in his life to be weirded out by it. It came with the territory.

What he didn’t understand was why those comments suddenly  _bothered_ him. Why he rolled his eyes at comments like ‘you guys should kiss!!’ or ‘omg they’re so married’ instead of just scrolling past them.

He had never really talked to Phil about it explicitly, because the existence of the ‘phan’ ship was just a side effect of them working and living together. But Dan couldn’t stop himself from bringing it up.

“Hey Phil?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit.

“Yeah?” Phil said, not looking up from his laptop.

“What do you think about shipping? Like, specifically - people shipping us?”

Phil looked up, tilting his head to the side, as though considering Dan more than his question.

“I dunno. I mean I guess it was a bit weird at first but now I’m just used to it? It doesn’t bother me, though. If it did, I’d have gone mad by now,” Phil replied, shrugging.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want that,” Dan murmured, looking back down at his phone.

“You alright, Dan?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just thought of it randomly, is all.”

“Looking through Instagram comments on our selfies again? I thought we agreed not to do that.”

“No, just the replies on our tweets. It’s  _everywhere._ It’s like we can’t do anything without people assuming we’re together.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit silly,” Phil said, his eyes back on his screen.

Dan felt his stomach lurch, as though that wasn’t the response he was hoping for - only he didn’t know he was looking for a specific one in the first place. He looked at Phil for a few moments, his phone still held up to his face, ready to glance back at it at any moment.

He guessed it was just the fact that Phil regarded assuming they were in a relationship as  _silly._ It wasn’t  _that_ far-fetched, was it? Was it so hard to believe that, given how close they were and how well they clicked as people and how very single they both were - that they might be together? Dan was a bit ashamed to think it, but he had to admit, maybe the shippers had a point.

Phil looked up, as though he could read Dan’s mental distress, and their eyes locked. Phil smiled at Dan - a quick, closed-mouth motion - before he looked away again.

Dan’s heart seemed to think that was something to go nuts about, and Dan abruptly got up from the couch and trudged back to his room, repeating an assortment of variations of the word ‘no’ in his mind as he did so.

_The fuck do you think you’re doing?!_ Dan muttered to himself, staring down at his chest and willing his heartbeat to kindly slow the fuck down.

Dan plopped onto his bed, burying his face in his hands.

_If you’re letting some random people on the internet dictate what you feel about your best friend then I swear to God -_

Dan couldn’t finish his threat to himself, because he knew it wasn’t true. He had always been interested in Phil, in pretty much every sense of the word. They snogged in a hotel room within twenty-four hours of meeting each other. They built a new life together in less than a year. They were now seen as DanandPhil more than two separate entities. Clearly, their relationship had some kind of chemistry that even people on the internet could pick up on in tweets and photos and five minutes of edited video at a time. Surely it couldn’t have all been in Dan’s head?

Dan had been content to ignore his feelings for a  _long_ time, especially when he was still getting over Emily. But now that she was out of the picture and there was nothing stopping him, why shouldn’t he fall in love with his best friend? It was what romance was made of. It made actual, logical sense. And it was terrifying as fuck.

Dan would rather face an army of moths in a dark forest than develop unrequited feelings for Phil, thanks very much. But the sharp pull of  _maybe_ made his head spin - maybe they wouldn’t be unrequited.

Phil was just as much an active participant in all of the events that led them to this point as Dan was. In fact, he had initiated most of it. But Phil was hard to read, and their relationship had always been so natural, thanks to Phil, that Dan rarely ever stopped to question or put a label on it. He had talked himself out of it the first time because he wasn’t ready to commit to someone new.

But now maybe he was.

x

_June 2013_

“What if everyone hates it?” Dan asked Phil, burying his face in his hands. They were all set to watch their radio show stream live internationally, sat with Phil’s laptop right next to the internet router, and Dan felt like he was going to be sick.

“They’re going to love it!” Phil said excitedly, setting a bowl of popcorn between them.

“You’re not the least bit nervous?”

“A little,” Phil admitted, shifting around a bit. “But we’ve seen it in full and I’m really proud of how it turned out. The only thing to be nervous about is everyone else’s reactions, which I don’t think we need to be concerned with.”

“Can you teach  _me_  how to logic my way out of anxiety?” Dan groaned, and he felt Phil’s hand snake around his waist.

“Lesson number one: eat your worries away,” Phil said, using his free hand to offer Dan some popcorn.

“That is terrible advice,” Dan said, munching on the popcorn obnoxiously. Phil shrugged and then squeezed Dan a bit closer to him, so that Dan’s head was tucked under the crook of his neck.

“Be that as it may, I’m really proud of us. We worked hard on this, we tried something new - that’s what matters.”

“Okay,” Dan said, but his heart was still pounding, and he wasn’t sure it was all the fault of the impending broadcast.

Phil’s phone buzzed, so he removed his arm from around Dan to pick it up in both hands. He smiled, tapped at the screen for a few seconds, and then looked up at Dan.

“Mum, Dad, and Martyn are all gathered round the iPad for the occasion,” Phil said, turning his phone around so Dan could see. Three proud faces beamed at him, and Dan grinned. Not a minute later, he received a similar picture of his mum, dad, and Adrian, and he caught himself smiling from ear to ear.

An abrupt change in sound made them both jump, as the low music that had been playing before stopped, and a loud  _bong_ erupted from Phil’s laptop.

Dan and Phil exchanged one last glance before facing the screen.

_“Stop what you are doing! The internet has taken control of the BBC,”_ Phil’s voice announced.

_“Coming out of your speakers and streamed live on the Radio 1 website, a special show unlike anything that has ever been created.”_

_“Go to BBC.co.uk/Radio1 now and prepare your minds - “_

_“ - And bodies.”_

_“To experience the Dan and Phil Summer Spectacular.”_

Phil was practically bouncing with excitement, and Dan grinned at him as the female voiceover declared, “ _You’re listening to Dan and Phil.”_

It had a nice ring to it, Dan thought.

x

_July 2013_

Dan gave his heart and soul to everything; he would even go as far as saying that it was his defining feature. When he was passionate about something, everyone knew it. He wore his heart on his sleeve. It was only when others belittled him did he ever hide his interests or tone them down, and Phil was no exception.

Maybe it was the onslaught of ‘shippy’ comments that had only increased in volume, maybe it was his parents’ periodic prying about his relationship with Phil, maybe it was the way their friends gave a nod of fulfilled expectations when they showed up somewhere together - again. Maybe Dan was just afraid to express his feelings for Phil more outright.

Regardless of the reason, Dan was always more reserved when it came to expressing how much he loved Phil. He’d rant for twenty minutes of a liveshow about K-pop, but he’d mention Phil in passing.

And goddamn, did he love Phil.

Dan had been in love with Emily. He thought he was in love with another girl before her. Shit, once he swore he was in love with a particular brand of sushi. But he knew he was fucked because the love he felt for Phil was so damn  _cliche:_ full-on heart flipping, gut wrenching, already picking out wedding colors and building a picket fence level crush. That much he was familiar with.

What he had never experienced before was the domestic side of love. As in,  _I’d very much like to adopt a dog with you because even though I love cats you’re allergic, and attempt to cook recipes that turn out awful, and file tax forms together, and make you feel loved every day of your life_  kind of love.

Dan had come to terms with all of that over the course of the last few months, but it hit him like a tonne of bricks when, in light of the success of their special - not only by their supporters, but people who actually _knew_ the radio business - the BBC asked them to submit a pilot for consideration. The actual fucking BBC wanted them to host the Sunday night request show, and gave them free reign on how to do it.

The pure absurdity and weight of those statements made it necessary to repeat them aloud, over and over, with varying levels of excitement and disbelief, to each other every time they worked on their pilot. They had emailed it to Victoria the previous week, and she had said she’d get back to them by Friday.

It was Friday night.

It was Friday night, and Dan couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection for the person who shared his nervousness about the situation.

“Hey Phil?” Dan said, crossing the lounge to sit beside Phil on the sofa.

“Hey, you,” Phil replied.

“Ever think about how far we’ve come?” Dan said. “We’re like -  _legitimate_ now.”

“What d’you mean?” Phil asked, setting his laptop on the table and giving Dan his full attention.

“Like… I dunno. I’m just really proud of us. We’ve potentially got a weekly radio show with the BBC, just because we worked together on YouTube. Which, I might add, is entirely your doing, because I never would have done it without you.”

Phil blushed.

“Oh, stop it. You’re the one who put in all the work and persevered through your doubts and built the skills to do it.”

“Which I never would have been able to do without you,” Dan pointed out. “Like, okay, maybe I would have made personal progress on my own if I like, meditated in a desert or something. But, I just… I dunno. I just want you to understand how much of a positive impact you’ve had on me, is all.”

Phil beamed at him, and Dan could have sworn his eyes were glassy.

“Dan…” Phil said, but he didn’t seem to know how to continue, so Dan just kept on.

“I just - I’ve never had a best friend before. I’ve never really had anyone that I could consider my companion in life, you know what I mean? And now I’ve got one, and we’re taking on the fucking  _world_ together.”

Phil was definitely holding back tears now, and Dan was about to tell him to just let it out, when Phil grinned at him.

“There’s no one I’d rather take on the world with.”

Dan’s heart seemed to grow wings and fucking  _soar_ , because for once, he felt like his feelings were requited - that Phil loved and cared about Dan as much as Dan did for him.

Maybe he had had that with Emily for a while, but that love was juvenile, and became one-sided sooner than Dan thought it had. But it was Phil who gave him the support he needed to get over her, and it was Phil who had finally given the gift of a mutually beneficial partnership. And that was all he had ever wanted or could ask for.

“I really love you, Phil.”

“I love you too, Dan,” Phil said. “I’m really proud of us as well.”

Dan’s palms were sweating, his stomach twisting into knots, but he pressed on, taking one of Phil’s hands in both of his own.

“No, like - properly,” Dan said, his voice tight.

He saw his words click in Phil’s brain, saw the spark in his eyes that told Dan he understood the weight of what Dan was doing.

But Phil wasn’t having it.

His jaw fell open a little, and he shook his head ever so slightly.

“Dan, we can’t,” Phil said, slipping his hand out of Dan’s grasp.

Dan’s heart sunk to the floor, his throat going dry.

“What? Why not?”

Phil just kept shaking his head, like Dan had just delivered the worst news he had ever heard rather than confessed his love.

“There’s so much  _happening_ for us right now. You even said it yourself - so much of our lives depends on our friendship. It’s practically everything to us.” Phil’s voice broke at that last statement. He paused, biting his lip.

“I just. I don’t think now’s a good time for this to be a thing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Dan scowled.

“What? You’re pulling the ‘I don’t wanna wreck our friendship’ card? That really implies that you think that’s a viable possibility. Why do I always fall for people who prepare for the worst  _all the damn time?”_

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me fucking too,” Dan spat, hugging his knees to his chest and scooting over so that he was no longer touching Phil.

After a few minutes of deafening silence, the phone rang.

Phil sprang up to get it like someone had lit a fire under his arse, and he put the phone on speaker, and Victoria’s excited voice rang out.

“Congratulations! We want the whole world to experience Dan and Phil!”

**Author's Note:**

> Update - February 2017  
> Writing this fic was exhausting in a lot of ways for me, so unfortunately I have no desire to revisit it. I’m just not inspired by the idea anymore, so I’m sorry if you’re disappointed in the abrupt/cliffhanger ending. I’m happy that so many of you liked it, and I can promise that my abandoned ideas for this fic will work its way into my future writing.


End file.
